
Cop)TightN^. 



H-4^ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



^-iT- 



M) 



\? 




CAMP AND FIELD. 



SKETCHES OF ARMY LIFE WRITTEN BY THOSE WHO- 
FOLLOWED THE FLAG. 



'6F65. 



- vcompiHed by 

/ 

w. f/hinman, 

Author of "'Corporal Si Klegg and his Pard,'^ etc. 



ILLUSTRATED. n OC ' ^ ' " " 

CLEVELAND. 0.: 
THE N. G. HAMILTON PUBLISHING CO. 



SL 







(K^^ 



COPYRIGHT 1892, BY 
N. G. HAMILTON, CLEVELAND, O. 




THE VICKSBURG DAILY CITIZEN, 



'. Vol.. IX. Nt). iS.V 



VICKSBURG. MISS. 



PRicEjfS.oo Per Year. 



The Daily Citizen. 



J. H. SIVORD 



yiCKSBURtJ, MISS.: 
TtinrMlar, July ad, lS«s< 

. ST-Mra. Ciico WM instantly killed on 
MoDduy. on Jnckson Road. Mn. Cisco's 
husband is now in Virginia, ft member of 
Moody's ftrtillcry. and the death of such a 
loving, affecti'inato and duttfltl ifife^will 
be a foM to him irreparable. 



E^WeVB Indebted lo Major OilleB- 
pie for a steak of Confederate beef, alias 

friends thatif it is rendered nccesaary.ttiey 
need baT« noscruftl^a at eating the meat. 
It ia sweet, aavory and tender, and ao long 
M we have a mule left, we are 8atj86cd oar 
toldi«ri will bo content to lubeiit oo it. 



ya^qraat'a forces did a little finng on 
Tuesday aftOmooa,but the balance of that 
day was comparatively quiet. Yesterday 
morniDg they were very still, and con- 
tinued BO until early in the afternoon, 
when they apniDg a mine on thtleft of our 
nd opened fire along the linp f< 



ascertain anything dc6nitGly a 
but as officers were on the loo 
move of the enemy. tlie expect 
Yankees were not realised by 


been able ;o 

kout for this 
ationsofthc 
a great deal 


EF-Jerry Askew, one of c 
Uemed merchant citizen^ w 
at the works in the rear of o 
days since, and breathed his 
day. Mr. Askew wiia 11 young 
integrity, great indusiry, aud 


AS wounded 
r city a few 
astonMoD- 
tan of strict 



lily and friends. 

of Cowan's artillery, and by t 

charge of his duties and his c 



who doetli all things well. 



portioned od what would do hir 
briff iolerval tliat will ensue before the 



cf human kiodnesa" had not dried up. 



pk'hethen 



ihavcbecnp,(id,and 
whom; and If so. let a brand not only be 
placed upon their brow, but let * 
ed into their Tery brain, tiio 
ity may scorn and shun thei 
woold the portals of hell itself. 



they 



Good Nkws. — In devoting a large por- 
tion of our space tbis morning to Federal 
intelligence, copied from tho Mcmph 
Bulletin of the S6ch, it should be remcL 
bered that the news, in the original trut 
is whitewashed by the Federal Prove 
Marshal, who de^irea to hoodwink the 
poor northern while slaves. The formi 



Yankeedom, ai 
working at W 
are. This paper at present is in duress, tind 
edited by a pink-nosed, slab-sided, toad- 
eating Yankee, who isa lineal deeccndunt 
of Judas Iscariot, and a brother germain of 
the greatest Puritanical, sycophantic, 
howling scoundrel onhung — Parson 
Browulow. Tet with aucb a character, 
this paper cannot cloak the fact that Gen. 
Kobcrt £. Lee has given Hooker, Milroy & 



fthc 



udHi 



and BouodeBtwhippingi 
■ e "gnlorioupUnioi ' 
teak in the knees. 



GEN. ItOBERT E. LEE UIIN. 

Again we have reliable oewa from the 

gallant corps of Gen. Lee in Virginia. 

Eluted with succeas, encouraged by a scries 

crossing the Rappahannock, defeating 
Hooker's right wing and thence through 
the Shenuiuloah Vulley, driving Milroy 
from WinchcstL-r and capturing «, 000 of 
his men and a large amount of valuable 
r all dcscriptious,re-cnteriag Mary- 



ling 



land, holding Ilogerstown, thrt 
WasliingtoQ citv, and within a fc 
of ItuUimorG— onwai J and upward their 

striking terror lo the heart of all Ysnkee- 
dom. Like the Scottish chieftain's bravca, 
Lee's men arc springing up from moor and 
brake, crag and dile, with flushing steel 

great cause of national independence, 
right and honor. To-day the mongrel ad- 
ministration of Lincoln. Jike Japhel.arc in 
Heaf.'h of I. futhcr, for llieir old Abe has 
departed for parts unknown. Terror 
reigns in their halls. Lee is to the left of 
them, to the right of them, in front of 
Ihcm, and all around them, and daily do 
we expect to hear of liia being down on 
them. Never were the French in Algeria 
more put out by the mobile raids of Ab Del 
Kadir, than arc the Fcdcraleof Maryland, 
Washington City.Pennsylvania and Ohio, 

Iry. Like Paddy's fli-a are they to the 



forhis kind consideration for their wc I 
On Tuesday he fired a few sheila fioi) 
Parrots, and kept his men tolerably buHy 



Fcdernls— no 
now ll>ey ha 



I't. The omnipresence o 
Ihev. throwing dual in tlv 
*.n the heels of tho panic 



eight hours, 
capturing ou 



pLie 



night be expected. The 
been used for nearly 
r fool, he midit as well 



.-GniPTra.— Gei 



ricken Federals in .Varylnnd and Peni 
Ivania, clearly prove that Lee just no 
the right man in the right place. 
We lay before our readers in this ian 

1 oQcountof Lee'sbrii;iant and successfi 
onslaught upon the abolition hordes, ar 



to the hilt with thei 

fantry haa told its fatal leaden tutc. 
~ "ny Maryland ia ours, to-m 



cral Smith': 
gularly un( 

gallant men whoac valor and worth the 
iiegehaa fully developed, and whose death 
ia a great public calamity. Lieut-Col, 
Griffin, commanding the Slxt Louisiana 
regiment, waskilled on Saturday. He was 
• popular and efficient officer. Gifted by 
nature with undaunted courage, indomita- 
ble resolution and energy, he wasalso poa> 
•eased of quick determination, keen glance 
»od coolacsd in danger, which are the 
most essential qualities of an officer, while 
by his mingled firmness and clemency of 

hia conduct, h -■- - - - . 

vilUf hi 




t^"We have heretofore refrained from 

ourcituens. We rcferto the laxdiscipline 
of some of our company officers in allow- 
ing their men to prowl around, day and 
night,and purloin fruit, vegetnblcB. chick* 
COB etc. from our denizena, and. in tlie ma- 
jority of cues, from those whose chief sub- 
sistence is derived therefrom. Thischnrgff 

but is cqu.illy, if mil mainly, attributublc 
the wugiiners ami others in charge of 



nala. Scv, 



(nowledgc wherein the offenders have, in 
jpen dayliglit, /entered premisea, seized 
cattle and other things,and defied the onii- 
tceth. We are pained to leiirn 
Vickaburg, 



\Vm. Portcrflcld, was under the 
in protecting hia property, to wound oi 
of two soldiers and deprive another of li 
life. We fully appreciate the fatigue, ban 
ships Bud privations to^which our men a 
tbjected ; but upon inqui 



ributii 



uUtli 



condtonunei 
of those gallui 



urth, and ruchcondu 



' U i.tttPia'iff&li'Sifhl'Qfj S? 



r military authorities. 



exposure, mortifying 
c hope that a salutary 
a may be made by 



On liiT.— That the great Ulyi 
Yankee Generalissimo, anrnamed Grant— 
has eipreaaed his intention of di 
Vicksburg on Saturday next, and celobrat' 
inglhc 4lh of July by a grand dim 



uia iovi 



Gen. Jo. Johnston to join he said: "Not 
for fenr there would be a row at the table.' 
Ulysses must get into the city before hi 
dines in it. Tho w«y to cook a iftbbit is^ 
•■first catcb the rabbit." Ac. 

- TINKEE lEWS FfKW ALL rOIITS. 

PHiLADKLruu. June 81, 2:30 a. 
The following is all the news of interest 
in the Washington Star: 

Major Dramll, of t)ie United States vol- 
unteers, received intelligeoce irom Fay- 
ettc county. Pa., this rooming, that the 

Pittsburgh, via tho National road leading 
from Cumberland acroaa the Alleghany 
Mountains. Their pickets had reached 
Grantaville, Md.. ihirty-eight milea from 
Uoioutown, Fayette county Pa., on 
Wednesday evening last. 
It is reported in Washington to-day that 



of lIo< 



staff V 



bled up by guerillas Is 

HAnniBBcno, ' June 20.— Operation 
were commi^nccd on our side to-day by i 
portion of a N. Y. cavalry regiment, cap 
wcnty rebel prisonera at McCon 



Isbur; 



nly. 



B sqUMd of rebels who were m 

We hold Chambersburg.snd 
ngaud fortifying the 



Couch had ordered t 
.Thef.,rtificfllions 
finished and arc con 



be 8,000 strong 



fn and Willi 
I hold the oorth'bankof the 
cr. from Cumberland to Har- 
Gen. Kelley drove them out 
1 they left they 



Willinmaport with 20,000 n 



ut this ia considered doubtful. 

F-1EDKHICK, Md,. June 20.— The enc 
ly's crtviihy left Doonsboro Inal evening 
fter capturing a number of horses. au< 
turned to IL.geratown. 

Six thousand infantry are reported ti 
avc crossed at Williamaport. ' It is not be 
evcd that they will visit Frederick. 

yhaa nearly 0,000 infantry thi. 



t SharpubuTg, and thi 
cr are encamped between WillinmFiport 
nd Itagcrstown. No artillery haa been 
■Et over nor have any trtKipa crossed 
ince y<^sterdny morning. 

left Willli 



:>thc 1 
cd at Chai 



1 bodv of hia 






libera 



north. Tho cavalry force 



200. 



r Jenk 



The party wh 
Irccncastle and Chanibcrsburg numbered 
nly 650. . 
WAsniKaTON,.Tune 23.- The Richmond 
Dispatch of theSlstcontainathc following: 
Dispatches received yesterday from Sa- 
ipturebytliccnemy 



gal. 



>nfedc) 



apers of the 20th eny tlie city 
., wiis burned by the Feder- 

ilackencd chimneys. Seven 
ads were at Brunswick, Gil , 
cea had landed from trans- 
[idlgbum has run the block- 
luiiiigtou. He is going to 



Pa., dispatch to 
■ ■ ■ jnsscd ih 
ath700n 
of Wayn. 



le Herald gIuIcb that 
ough Grcencastto last 
>unlcd infantry, in the 



'illiam 



lirclei 






i<y. TI, 



rebels have &< 

ire cntertaind for the 
!« hubdrvd rebel c 
al places. 



fired M 

Chatnberaburg d ispntch 

1 arc scouring ihe couiury forhorses. 

,iTi- j^ni ul.iint two ihousuod head ef 
jfCBtrtv oml l»o tliainy])(l>||^irse^s. 



I cetvcd here late t)t4s evetilog, states that % 
rebel cavalry fores is within eight miles of 
Gettysburg. 

New YoBK, Jone 21, — A HarriBburj 
dispatch to-night contaias the following; 
"The rebels are reported 40,000 strong at 
Uagerstown and fortifying," 

A Herald's apecial from Mnnocacy Sta- 
tion, Sid., the Slat, saya: About4 o'clock 
p.m.. Major Cole, of tho 1st Maryland cav- 
alry, made a gallant dash into Frederick, 
with40men, driving out'the enemy, kill- 
ing tfm and capturing one. Mo loss oo ear 
side. Oui cavalry poasod through the city, 
and immediately aiter s^out fifteett hun- 
dred rebel «avalry re-uccupied the (own. 

The rebel cavalry entered Frederick 
about S o'clock and dashed furiously 
through the city, capturing nine of our 
men at the signal station, and paroled the 
invalid soldiers, numbering aboat sixty. 
In the-hospital. A oomber of horses were 



the Central Hotel, 
tccted thereto wel 
jority of the popul 



a col- 



therebela. 

evinced no pless- 

Theladieawereexcecd- 

gly expreeaivo in their demonalrationa 

of disgust, and ahowered words of symp»- 

thy upon our prisoners U thej passed 

through the town. 

The rebels are reported to be fortifying 
at South Mountain. They have in the vi- 
cinity of Willinmaport about six thousand 
infantry, one thousand cavalry, and a few 
pieces of artillery. A squadron of cavalry 
could ■ undoubtedly capture the eotirt 
force this side of &>uth.MoMntaiD, 



good-feeling, at s prominent hospital of 
this city, through the ministerial offices of 
a chaplain of a gallant regiment. Charles 
Royal, Prince Imperi;il of Ethiopia, of the 
Rcrberigo family, espoused the lovely and 
accomplished R"Ha Glass, Arch Duchess 
of Scncgamhia, one of the most celebmtei 
Princesses of the Laundrcssima Rcgima. 
The aa.nir was conducted with great mng- 
nificence, though as is usual in troublous 
timeSftheGablcrelementwaB predominant. 
The foe may hurl their deadly bolts 
■ And think we are a'frghted. 
Well may we- scorn them— silly dolts — 



Our Blacks a 



lited. 



Victimized.— We learned ot an in- 
ilance wherein a "knight of the quiir'and 
k disciple of tho "black art," with malice 
m their hearts and vengeance in their eyes, 
ruthlessly put a period to the existence of 
I venerable feline, that has for time not 
n-ithintho recollection of the "oldest in- 
labitnnt," faithfuIlydiBcharged the duties 
.o be expected of him, to the terror of aun- 
iry vermin in Ins neighborhood. Poorde-, 
'unct Thomas was then prepared, not for 
the grave but the pot, and several friends 
itcd to pnrt.-tkc of a nice rabbit. As a 
ttcr of course no ono would wound the 
feelings of another, especially in these 
times, by refusing a cordial invitation to 
', and the guests assisted in consum- 
ing the poor aniniid with a relimh tliat did 
" .nortotheircpicurenntnstcs. Tho "sold" 
sure us that meat was delicious, and that 
*Bfj must look out for her safety. 

ET'TheFcdcnil General McClcrnand, 
[til recently outside the rear of our ciiy. 
has been superseded. He and Oram could 
lot run in the same liarncsa. lie wiis for 
iplurgiugandOrant for gassing— both got 
lie loggerheads. So poor Mac. had td 
cave and Grant lias all hia own way. 

^"ThcYaiiksoutsideourcityarecoo- 
i.ierably on the akk lisU Fever, dyscn- 
ery and disgust are their compuniou,and 
Jrant is their master. : The boyaare dc- 
ertfng daily, and arc crossing the river io 
theregionof Wftrrenton,cur8iogGrantBud 
ionistS' generally. Tho boys are 
upon the cart^ -delving, the burrow- 
he bad water and tho hot wcathea. 

iEOtrr.—ThcNatloaal Intelligencer 
of Washington has closed its long career 
n a su&pen;>iiin and a sale of its ejects at 
oclion. It has been Highly respectable 
nd very mischievous in its day and gene- 
ntion. An old Uutou prop fulls with it. 
P'topli 



JuLVfth; 1803. .., 
Two dsyfl bring about great changes. 



en— urge Southc 



ill tu vutualik hcrcaftui 




/// {Memory of 

OUR FALLEN HEROES 

and to 

OUR HONORED yETERANS 

This Volume is Gratefully TDedicated. 




PRKFACK. 

This book is in the nature of a "campfire," around which "the 
boys " who conquered the great rebelhon recount their adven- 
tures in "Camp and Fiekl. All the sketches herein contained 
were written by men who participated in the events they 
narrate. 

The swiftly passin<^ years are fast whitening the heads of the 
old soldiers. As the survivors of the war grow older, the fra- 
ternal feeling for one another grows stronger. So it will be until 
the last of them shall have been "mustered out." To them, and 
the friends of those who have passed over to the majority, 
this volume is dedicated, in the belief that many of them will find 
upon its pages much that will interest them and recall the stir- 
ring scenes of a quarter of a centur\' ago. 

Jan. 1,1893. W. F. H. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

An Anecdote of Jeb Stuart ■ 33' 

A Battle in the Clouds 313 

A Chickamauga Experience 192 

A Death Wound that did not Kill 4.69 

An English Steamer Captured 571 

A Flag with a History 72' 

A Fighting Chaplain 138 

A Fierce Duel for Life 399 

A Glimpse of Stonewall Jackson 459 

A Houseful of Northern Generals 98 

A Hot Fight at Peach Tree Creek 376 

An Incident at Peach Tree Creek 272 

A Joke in the Thick of Battle 505 

Array Life in Washington '.:.. 456 

Assault on Fort Wagner 255 

A Presentiment of Death 26 

A Premonition 130 

Admiral Porter's Reminiscences 526 

A Romance of the War 423 

A Shot Fired at the Wrong Time 105 

A Surgical Wonder 107 

A Story of Shiloh 208 

A Scout's Wonderful Adventure 522 

Army Teamsters 32 

A Town of Ruins 536 

Across the Rapidan 342 

Archer's Tennesseeans at Spottsylvania 349 

A War Romance 85 

Battle and Assault at Plains Store and Port Hudson. 185 

Battle of Allatoona '..... 411 

Battle of Antietam lit! 



O CONTEXTS. 

Bai^tle of Antietam 113 

IButler "Bottled Up" 53 

Battle of Brandy Station 188 

iBattle of Chickamauga 264 

Battle of Corinth 134 

Battle of Fair Oaks 92 

Battle of Hanover Court-House 82 

Battles of luka and Corinth 131 

Born in a Battle 305 

Battle of Lookout Mountain 303 

Battle of Prairie Grove 233 

Beauregard's Pulse in Battle 505 

Battle of Pea Ridge 47 

Battle of Raymond 161 

Battle of Spottsylvania 346 

Battle Scenes at Shiloh 57 

Battle of Vicksburg 178 

Circumstances Alter Cases 339 

Capturing a Spy ' 454 

-Case\''s Division at Fair Oaks 95 

Camp Ford Prison 510 

Carved his own Headboard... 42 

Confederate Money 319 

Capture of Walker's Rangers 148 

Capture of Fort Hindman 150 

Charge of the Star Brigade 362 

Cahawba Prison 252 

Corporal Tanner's Hard Luck 316 

■Completeh' Unnerved 46 

Drawing Lots for Death 86 

IDeath of Captain Glenn 380 

Destruction of the Albemarle 429 

Eighty-six Battles 53 

Foraging 332 

Feeding an Arm}' 99 

First and Last Sight of a Silk Banner 166 

■Flanking Atlanta 408 

First Battle of Bull Run 21 

Fall of General Morgan 592 

Forrest's Memphis Raid 450 



CONTENTS. 9 

Fun on Picket Post 226 

Fishing up Torpedoes 129 

First War Meeting at Galena, Illinois 110 

Grant and the Pickets 80 

General Custer's Farewell Order 65 

Guarding Davis at Fortress Monroe 667 

General Grant's Words 241 

General Grant's Record 612 

General Hancock's Humor 133 

Gran t Promoted Them 540 

Grant's Sentence upon Lieutenant Wickfield 551 

General Sumner and his Son at Antietam 563 

General Terry Among his Friends 80 

General Thomas 330 

Grant was Responsible 88 

General Pemberton's Death 621 

Heroism and Chivalrj' at Fredericksburg 491 

Hancock's Charge at Spottsylvania 352 

How Grant Saved Lee 340 

How it Seems to Kill a Man 318 

How McClellan was Loved 503 

Historic Masonic Jewels 573 

Humors of the Camp 574 

History of the Stars and Stripes 620 

Hood's Rout at Nashville 153 

How Rivers are Bridged for Retreating Armies 564 

Hunter's Shenandoah Raid 357 

How We Became Veterans 219 

How We Yelled 663 

Incidents of Generals Lee, Jackson, etc 492 

Interesting War Relic 535 

Jeff Davis' Capture 665 

Just Like Lincoln 51 

Johnny Shiloh 108 

Kindness not Forgotten 33 

Life at Chattanooga During the Siege 127 

Logan at Atlanta 378 

Libby's Bright Side 170 

Logan's Bravery at Kennesaw 323 

Life in the Trenches 76 



10 CONTENTS. 

Life on the Monitor 267 

Libby Prison's Tunnel 197 

Lee's Surrender 64,3 

Lee's Surrender 656 

Mother Bickerdyke 89 

My Escape from the Rebels 143 

Mission Ridge 309 

Marching Through Georgia 460 

Merrimac vs. Monitor 368 

More Where that Came From 64 

News at the Capitol from Bull Run 31 

Narrow Escape of a Traitor 544 

Night on the Field of Fredericksburg 118 

Nicknames of War Leaders 137 

"Old Abe," the Wisconsin War Eagle 493 

One Country and One Flag 646 

Origin of the Confederate Flag 64 

Old War Letters 79 

Picket Line Exchanges 64 

Pennsylvania Troops First to Arrive at the National Capitol 15 

Recollections of an Army Nurse 43^ 

Relics of Anderson ville 608 

Rainbow Bluff. 335 

Running Forts Jackson and St. Philip 61 

Reminiscences of Field and Prison 273 

Recollections of General Custer at Winchester 67 

Reminiscences of General Opdycke 324 

Release of Prisoners 623 

Scenes at Shiloh 54 

Sheridan Against Stuart 443 

Siege at Petersburg 471 

Sexton Brown and General Banks 53 

Second Battle of Fort Fisher 467 

Shot by a Comrade 79 

Sheridan's Fox Hunt 112 

Some Gallant Deeds of Brave Men 550 

Spring Hill and Franklin 436 

Siege of Knoxville 320 

Soldiers' Letters 497 

Soldier Life 557 



CONTENTS. 11 

Sixth Massachusetts Passing through Baltimore 19 

Sheridan's Noted Ride 401 

Shooting- of Longfellow's Son 4-27 

Stone River 246 

Stonewall's Scabbard 487 

The Artillery Duel at Antietam 116 

The Blackwater Naval Contest 141 

The Battle of Fort Fisher 434 

The Battle of Monocacy... 371 

The Battle of Resaca 419 

The Battle of Sailor's Creek 506 

The Charge at Kennesaw 354 

The Colonel and the Soldier 389 

The Capture of General Marmaduke 425 

The Citizen Soldier 515 

Three Days at Gett^'sburg 222 

The Eighth Iowa at the Capture of Mobile 513 

The Episode of Patrick Connolly 164 

Thrilling Experience of a Union Scout 40 

Torpedo Explosion 81 

The First Ironclad Ram 34 

The Fort Pillow Massacre 326 

The First to Die for the Confederacy 548 

Trooper Fee's Ghost 468 

The Great Mine Adventure 373 

The "Gun Shy" Warrior 553 

The Heroic McCook Family 50 

The History of the Alabama 489 

Torbert in the Valley 391 

The Last Night at Fredericksburg 122 

The "Plymouth Pilgrims" 181 

The 78th Ohio at Bald Hill 381 

The Sixth Corps 638 

The Storming of Marye's Heights 157 

The Sultana Disaster 702 

The Tenderfoot 27 

The 33rd New York 73 

The Verification of a Dream 542 

The Vicksburg Daily Citizen 

What a Battle Is 37 



12 



CONTENTS. 



With Custer 260 

War Correspondents 415 

War's Humorous Side 431 

Women in the War 385 

With Kershaw at Gettysburg 227 

Who Shot Stonewall Jackson 405 

Wilson's Raid 670 

POETRY. 

Allatoona ; 36 

America's Answer 149 

An Answer to the "Blue and the Gray" 367 

"All Quiet Along the Potomac To-Night" 240 

A Soldier's Grave 142 

By the Camp Fire 25 

Barbara Frietchie 366 

Chickamauga 263 

Caliber Fifty-Four 637 

Company K 383 

Count Zowaski 614 

Decoration Day 169 

Driving Home the Cows 486 

Fell for His Country 191 

General Ulysses S. Grant 433 

General Logan 184 

Just Before the Battle, Mother 187 

Kearney 591 

Lookout Mountain 133 

March to the Battle Field 70 

"M. D." , 645 

My Father's Unknown Grave 570 

Morris Island Memories 474 

Mending the Old Flag 66 

Mustered Out 630 

Our Braves 160 

Old Marster Fo' De War 525 

Our Soldiers' Graves 337 

Promoted 541 

Ready 636 



CONTENTS. 13 

Soldier's Death-Bed Hymn 136 

The Advance Guard 245 

Thomas at Chickamauga 615 

The Blue and the Gray 70 

The Blue, the Gray and Grant 85 

The Battle Flags 104 

The Crutch in the Corner 338 

The Countersign was "Mary" 470 

The Drummer Boy of Mission Ridge 617 

The Eighth Kansas 546 

The 15th Veteran Corps 94 

To My Wife 377 

The Old Canteen 504 

The Prisoner's Lament 361 

The Retreat 512 

The Sentry's Challenge 414 

The Soldier's Last Word 449 

The Sleeping Gray 642 

Ulric Dahlgren 229 




CAMP AND FIEkD, 



. . .SKETCHED BY. 



ii 



THE BOYS" 



WHO MARCHED, FOUGHT AND PUT 
DOWN THE REBELLION. 




PENNSYLVANIA TROOPS FIRST TO ARRIVE AT 
THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. 



THE FIRST BLOOD SHED NORTH OF FORT SUMTER. 



BY WILLIAM F. Wl'KAY, 25th PA. REGIMENT. 




(WO years previous to the bombardment of Fort 
Sumter the military spirit of Lewistown, Pa., 
was revived by the formation of a company of 
light infantry. The ranks were filled by young 
men froin the best families in the community. 
On the morning of the sixteenth day of April, 
1861, Governor Curtin called upon our com- 
pany for service. 

The summons was obeyed promptly. Our total number was 
fifty-one men, including officers. Captain Selheimer increased 
this number to one hundred and four men in the space of 
two hours. We took our departure that night for Harrisburg, 
and were the first company to arrive there. We were speedily 
joined by four other companies of the Pennsylvania National 
Guards, the Washington Artillery and National Light Infan- 
try, of Pottsville, the Ringgold Artillery, of Reading, and the 
Allen Infantry, of Allentown. Our men were only partly 
armed, and what few muskets we had were turned into the 
State Arsenal, and for some unaccountable reason we were 
loaded on the cars, entirely unarmed, to pass through the then 
disloyal city of Baltimore. We were accompanied by a detach- 
ment of forty regulars, whose destination was Fort McHenry, 
Baltimore. 

The city of Baltimore was under the control of the Seces- 
sionists and an infuriated mob, frenzied with passion and 
liquor, who awaited our coming. As we disembarked from the 



16 CAMP AND FIELD. 

cars we were surrounded by a hooting, yelling crowd, who lav- 
ished the most opprobrious epithets upon us. Our line of march 
was formed with the "Logan" Guards on the right, preceded 
by a part of the regulars, who accompanied us a part of the 
way. A line of Marshal Kane's police was on each side of us. 
The streets and sidewalks were jammed with people, and at 
every cross street we were met by fresh masses, who hurled 
bricks and paving stones at us. The line of the police was 
nearly broken at several points. Doorways and windows were 
filled and many secession flags met our gaze. Indeed, the only 
national flag that could be seen was at Fort McHenry. Had 
the rioters organized as they did two days later, when the 
6th Mass. Regt. fought their way through this city, they would 
have annihilated our command. 

A colored servant of the Pottsville companies was the first 
man on our side to shed his blood, north of Fort Sumter. He 
was knocked down by a paving stone and his head badly cut. 
We were put into freight cars at the Washington depot, and it 
was then that the mob seemed more fero.cious than ever. Some 
mounted the decks of the cars, and by jumping on them at- 
tempted to break them through. A continual stream of mis- 
siles was flying through the openings of the cars; they 
attempted to tear up the track and several times uncoupled the 
engine from our train. 

Some of our boys were hard to restrain under all these insults 
and abuse, and two of them jumped out and offered to fight 
any two men in the crowd. This seemed to please them some- 
what and they said that we might go on, but that they would 

give the " Massachusetts Yankees h 1." After many delays, 

we were once more on the move, and at 7 p. m. arrived in 
Washington. We were silently marched to the Capitol Build- 
ing, where we were reviewed by Major, afterwards General 
McDowell. We had our headquarters in the hall of the House 
of Representatives. That night was our first experience in the 
art of eating wormy pork and hard-tack. One of our mem- 
bers, who was fully six feet in height, actually shed tears 
because he had no sugar on his bread. This young man was 
afterwards a captain in the gallant 96th Pa. Vols., but he is 
called " Sugar Jim " to this day. 

Early on the following morning our first sergeant reported 
as ready for duty to Adjutant-General Mansfield, and he told 



CAMP AND FIT%LD. 17 

Matthews that we were "the first company reported for duty 
in the war." 

The 6th Regt. of Mass. Vols, having fought their way 
through the blockade at Baltimore made us feel still more 
valiant, but for eleven days after we were entirely cut off from 
the North, until General Butler opened a new route by way of 
Annapolis. The Massachusetts soldiers were quickly followed 
by regiments from New York, New Jersey, and Rhode Island. 
In a few days we received orders to embark for Fort Wash- 
ington, on the Potomac, opposite Mount Vernon. As we 
passed Alexandria, our men kept concealed and our steamer 
hugged the opposite shore, for the rebels had a battery of field 
guns on the wharf, and had they known there were Union 
troops on that steamer they would probably have sent us to the 
bottom of the river. Major Haskin, a one-armed veteran of 
the Mexican war, was in command of Fort Washington, and 
under him we speedily acquired the steadiness and accuracy 
of regular soldiers. Squad and company drills, mounting heavy 
guns in the fort and water battery, and making abatis on the 
land side, left us little time to do anything else. When the 
news of our disastrous defeat at Manassas reached us our time 
had expired and we voluntarily remained two weeks longer. 
We were then forwarded to Harrisburg, where we were mus- 
tered from service. 

On the 22d of July, 18G1, we received the thanks of Congress, 
the following resolution having been passed: — 

Itexolved, That tlie thanks of this House are due and are hereby tendered to 
the five hundred and tliirty soldiers from Pennsylvania, who passed through the 
mob at Baltimore and reached Washington on the eighteenth day of April, 1861, 
for the defense of the National Capital. 

This company afterwards furnished no less than thirty-three 
commissioned officers in different organizations, and we chal- 
lenge any company in either army to make a better showing 
of what the citizen soldier can do. Selheimer and Hu lings 
became colonels. 

Our first sergeants, Matthews, Irwin, and William G. Mitchell, 
late of General Hancock's staff, were brigadiers, another be- 
came a major and the rest were commissioned captains and 
lieutenants. The other four companies also made a brilliant 
record in the war. 



18 CAMP AND FIELD, 

DEFEAT. 

General Scott could not understand how a "hero of one hun- 
dred battles" could be beaten, and he only believed when the 
retreating, panic-stricken army sounded its approach. When 
the veteran was convinced, he gave an order to suppress all news 
of the disaster which might be offered for telegraphing to the 
country. Armed with tliis document I drove to the American 
telegraph office and notified its manager. 

The tables were piled with specials from the field, describing 
in thrilling language the scenes and events of the day. All 
Intimations of disaster were ruthlessly cut from the specials and 
only the rose coloring was permitted to be telegraphed. Thus 
it was that whilst the gloom of the darkest hour in the Repub- 
lic's history hung like a pall over Washington, throughout the 
North bells were ringing out rejoicings over the glad tidings of 
victory. Telegrams were sent to General McClellan, at 
Beverly, West Virginia, informing him of a "repulse" to Mc- 
Dowell, and to Generals Banks and Dix — both of whom were in 
Baltimore — instructing them to keep their men under arms. 
No official telegrams for aid was sent at this time, but Col. 
Thomas A, Scott, with a keen perception of the situation and 
foreseeing the necessity of the morrow, sent a telegram to 
Governor Curtin, at Harrisburg, which was so characteristic of 
the man, that I give its full text: — 

Washington, July 21, 1861. 
Hon. a. G. Cuktin, Ilarrhhurcj, Pa. 

Get your regiments at Harrisburg, Easton, and other points ready for immedi- 
ate shipment. Lose no time preparing. Make things move to the utmost. 

Thomas A. Scott. 

This dispatch anticipated by many hours any official action 
looking towards a call for "more troops." Mr. Lincoln 
lingered around the War Department until after two o'clock in 
the morning, when he retired to the White House, leaving 
Mr. Scott on guard — an active, watchful sentinel of the move- 
ments of the night. Had the country been consulted, it could 
not have selected from its patriotic sons an abler, truer, wiser, 
braver guardian than the noble man Mr. Lincoln left to care 
for the nation's interests in the crisis which had come upon it. 



6tl| Mass. Regt. Passing througlj Baltiiijore. 

A FURIOUS MOB BARRICADES THE STREETS.— MARSHAL KABE HELPLESS, 




■N answer to the 
President's call for 
troops Governor 
Andrew, of 
Massachu- 
setts, on the 
15th of April, 
18G1, ordered 
the 6th Mass. 
Regt. to mus- 
ter forthwith on " Boston Com- 
mon." On the night of April 
18, they had reached Philadel- 
phia, Pa. , and had put up at the 
Girard House, then new and 
unoccupied. The regiment was 
here met by Gen. P. S. Davis, 
an agent of Massachusetts, 
who informed Colonel Jones, 
of the 6th, that there would 
be a stormy time when the reg- 
iment reached Baltimore, and 
added he could take no respon- 
sibility in directing his action. 
Colonel Jones responded, "My 
orders are to reach Washington 
at the earliest moment possible 
and I shall go on." It was 
about 1 A. M. the 19th, and he 
at once aroused his regiment 



and arranged with the officers 
of the railroad for a " pilot en- 
gine " to go in advance of his 
train, so that they arrived safe- 
ly at Baltimore about 10 a. m., 
several hours in advance of 
their expected arrival. Twenty 
rounds of ball cartridges had 
been distributed en 7'oute, so 
that all the muskets were 
loaded and primed. As the 
train reached the city, the en- 
gine was unshackled and 
horses were at once hitched to 
the cars, as was usual, to draw 
them across the city. The rail- 
road officials were making ner- 
vous haste, fearing what might 
happen, but nothing like an at- 
tack was made until the sev- 
enth car had started. Major 
Watson had been stationed at 
the rear of the train when leav- 
ing Philadelphia, the regiment 
having taken the cars in regu- 
lar order as in line, but when 
they were transferred at Havre- 
de-Grace the cars were attach- 
ed differently, so that the order 
as in line was now broken. 



20 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



When the car upon which 
Major Watson was stationed 
started, he took it for granted 
that all the regiment was on 
its way across the city. His 
car was attacked by clubs, 
paving stones, and other mis- 
siles, but no defense was made 
until three men had been 
wounded (the last by a pistol 
shot), when the company was 
permitted to fire at will. As 
it crossed the city, this car was 
three times derailed. Upon 
reaching the other depot. Su- 
perintendent Smith, of the Bal- 
timore and Ohio Railroad, in- 
formed Colonel Jones that the 
road was so obstructed that 
the four remaining companies 
could not be brought over. 
There were two hundred and 
twenty men in these four com- 
panies (C, I, L, and D) and they 
were surrounded by a mob of 
thousands, who filled the air 
with yells, oaths, taunts, mis- 
siles, and shots. Capt. A. S. 
Follansbee, finding the railroad 
and streets obstructed, at once 
assumed command and in the 
order of the companies as 
stated commenced his march 
across the city. A formidable 
barricade on Pratt street was 
scaled; and a point where the 
mob had hoped to annihi- 
late the detachment was thus 
passed. Cheers for Davis and 
for the South, and taunts of 
''you can't fight," "dig your 



graves," "nigger stealers," and 
"Yankee scabs," filled the air. 
Pistol and gunshots came from 
windows, roofs, and streets, 
while everything which could 
be picked up was hurled upon 
the devoted column. It was 
early on the march evident, 
that nothing but blood would 
satisfy the ruffians, and though 
in a measure they left the ad- 
vance clear, yet the crowd 
hung upon the rear of the col- 
umn, a dense and infuriated 
mob. After a few of the men 
had been wounded, Captain 
Follansbee gave the boys per- 
mission to defend themselves, 
and from that time until the 
detachment reached the Wash- 
ington depot there was a con- 
stant fusillade of musketry. 
As any of the Gth Mass. were 
wounded they were borne 
along by comrades. As they 
reached the Washington depot 
they found an immense crowd 
brandishing revolvers, knives, 
clubs, and other weapons; and 
the police powerless or disin- 
clined to control them. Guns 
and revolvers were being dis- 
charged on both sides, and the 
depot was soon perforated like 
a pepper box. After consider- 
able delay the train started, fol- 
lowed by an enraged crowd, 
who piled every conceivable 
obstruction on the track. Af- 
ter frequent stops for repairing 
breaks the conductor reported 



CAMP AND FIELD; 



21 



he could go no farther, and 
that the regiment must march 
the rest of the way. Colonel 
Jones told him, he held through 
tickets to Washington, and if 
he could not run the train 
through, he had men who could 
fill every position on the train 
and could and would put the 
train through. The train was 
again started, and at Jackson 
Bridge, the mob gave up the 



chase. After a long delay at 
the Belay House, the train 
reached Washington late in 
the afternoon, and the boys 
were received by Major (after- 
ward General) McDowell, and 
were quartered that night in 
the United States Senate cham- 
ber. The loss of the regiment 
in passing through Baltimore 
was four killed, and thirty-six 
wounded. 




First Battle -f Hull Run. 



JULY 21, 1861. 



A "Baptism of Fire" and a Desperate Struggle. How Jackson 
got the Title of " Stonewall." 

BY MAJOR WILLIAM M. ROBBINS, FOURTH ALABAMA REGIMENT. 




'N the afternoon of July 18, 1861, the 
army of Gen. Joe Johnston, 10,000 
strong, which had been in front of 
■^^^-^ General Patterson near Winchester, 
Va., was hastily put in motion and marched off 
southeastwardly, going we knew not whither. Heat, dust, and 
night-fall made the rapid march disagreeable enough, but it 
was pushed without check until we reached the Shenandoah. 
This river — about waist deep — was waded at dawn of the 
nineteenth amidst songs, jokes, and general hilarity. The Blue 
Ridge was passed at Ashby's Gap, and at evening of the same 
day the head of the column arrived at Piedmont station on the 
Manassas Gap railroad, from whence Johnston's forces were 
forwarded in detachments by rail as fast as transportation 
could be furnished. 



22 CAMP AND FIELD. 

So much has been said about Johnston's troops appearing on 
the field, in the nick of time, and after the battle had been long 
raging, that an impression extensively prevails that none of 
them were there at the opening of the fight. This a great mis- 
take. Three brigades^Jackson's, Bartow's, and (nearly all of) 
Bee's — were at hand when the battle opened and bore an im- 
portant part in it all day. The 4th Alabama and other regi- 
ments of Bee's brigade reached the Junction at noon of the 
twentieth, and were among the very earliest in the conflict the 
next day. 

It was only a comparatively minor number of Johnston's 
men under Kirby Smith and Elrey that leaped from the train 
when the battle was in progress, and, hastening down the War- 
renton pike, came in so luckily on the right rear of the 
Federals and caused the panic which gave the victory to the 
Confederates. 

The 4th Alabama were busy with breakfast not far from 
the Junction, when the boom of a gun in the direction of the 
railroad bridge, over Bull Run, drew our eyes that way,' and we 
saw for the first time the little sphere of white vapor produced 
by the bursting of a shell. Our regiment, with others of Bee's 
brigade, was at once moved at double-quick towards the Con- 
federate left, but we had scarcely reached the designated point 
when we were again ordered to go at a rapid run two miles still 
further up the stream, to meet the Federals at Sudley's Ford. 
All depended on presenting a quick front to this unexpected 
movement. We went across the fields at our highest speed and 
soon reached the plateau of the Henry House, around which 
the battle was afterward mainly fought. Bee knew that his 
brigade alone could not hold the position, and saw that the 
enemy would secure it, unless checked and delayed by some 
means, before an adequate force of Confederates could get 
there to oppose them. To gain the needed time it was neces- 
sary to risk the sacrifice of the two and a half regiments 
then with him by a bold movement still further to the 
front. So he ordered the 4th Alabama, with the 2d and 11th 
Mississippi, to move half a mile further to the next bridge, to 
engage the enemy and delay them as long as possible. Down 
the slope we rushed, panting and breathless, but still eager, 
because ignorant of the desperate crisis which doomed us to 
probable destruction, to save the whole army. As we passed 



CAMP AND FIELD. 23 

the little rivulet below the Stone House, the artillery duel began, 
and shells of friend and foe shrieked wildly above our heads. 

Mounting the hill and entering the copse of timber north of 
the Stone House, we began to hear a sharp crackling of 
musketry ahead of us — a collision between the Federals and 
Wheat's "Louisiana Tigers," wearing the Zouave uniform. 

A little further up the hill and beyond the timber, we struck 
the enemy and no mistake. Their long advancing line, with 
the " Stars and Stripes" (which made some of us feel sorry), 
began to peer over the crest, eighty yards in our front, and 
opened a terrific fire, but which went mostly over us. On re- 
ceiving the enemy's fire we lay down and waited until we 
could see their bodies to the waist, when we gave them a volley 
which was effective and the Federals fell back behind the 
crest. After some interval they advanced another and longer 
line; but the result was the same as before, only they held on 
longer this time and their fire hurt us badly. A third time they 
came on in a line which extended far beyond our flanks, and 
now the conflict became bloody and terrible. Their balls came 
not only from the front but from right and left oblique, cut- 
ting down our colonel (Egbert Jones) and many a familiar 
form so recently full of hope and gayety. Then War began to 
show us his wrinkled front. It seemed our safest course to hug 
the ground and pepper away at them; and so from sheer des- 
peration, as much as anything, we kept at it, until, to our great 
joy, the enemy fell back once more behind the crest. General 
Bee, seeing that we would be overwhelmed at the next on- 
slaught, gave us the order to retire. Nearly one-third of the 4th 
Alabama had gone down in the effort and were left on the 
ground, including the colonel, mortally wounded. The 7th 
and 8th Georgia, of Bartow's brigade, also came to our ad- 
vanced position but far to our right during the contest. They 
had a bloody collision with another column of the Federals, 
and contributed materially to the delay of the Federal advance. 

As we retired by the same route along which we had come, we 
saw a regiment in column by companies, marching down the 
rivulet toward us. Their flag was furled on the staff and so 
was ours. They thought we were Federals, but were not sure. 
As for ourselves we felt certain no enemy had got so far in 
our rear; their uniforms also resembled that of the 6th North 
Carolina, belonging to our brigade, and we naturally took them 



24 CAMP AND FIELD. 

for that regiment coming to our aid. Thus encouraged we 
halted, faced about and re-formed our line, intending with this 
re-enforcement to take another tilt with the enemy. The regi- 
ment referred to also halted and deployed into line of battle at 
right angles to ours and less than one hundred yards from our 
flank. Their colonel signaled us with his handkerchief, for the 
purpose of learning who we were, as it afterward appeared. 
We never dreamed that that was his purpose, thinking of course 
he knew us. All this took place in a few moments. Having 
rearranged our line our flag was unfurled showing the " Stars 
and Bars!" Instantly a blaze of fire flashed along the line of 
our supposed friends (a New York regiment it really was), and 
an enfilading hailstorm of bullets tore through the -itli Ala- 
bama, killing many and disabling more. Amongst those who 
fell were Lieutenant-Colonel Law and Major Scott, leaving our 
regiment without a field officer. What do you suppose we did? 
We didn't stay there; it is frank to say that we got back to the 
main Confederate line in the shortest time possible. Having 
arrived there, the 4th Alabama fell in on the right of the 
line and fought to the end of that terrible day. 

The position of our regiment being now on the right of the 
Confederate line, the plateau of the Henry House, — and the 
leading design of the Federals during the entire day being to 
turn the Confederate left, the heaviest fighting gradually veered 
toward that flank. The 6th North Carolina, separated from 
the brigade in the maneuvers of the day, had rushed in single- 
handed and attempted to check it, but had been smitten by 
overwhelming power, and their gallant Colonel Fisher and 
many of his men were no more. Jackson, with his brigade, 
was struggling desperately, to arrest the Federal columns; but 
immovable as Jackson and his men stood, the surging tides of 
the enemy were beating upon him with such a mighty force 
that it seemed as if he must give way. At one time the battle 
had entirely lulled on the right. Our brigadier. Gen. Barnard 
E. Bee, at this moment came galloping to the 4th Alabama, 
and said: " My brigade is scattered over the field and you are 
all of it I can find. Men, can you make a charge of bayonets?" 
'' Yes, General," was the prompt response, "we will go wherever 
you lead and do whatever you say." Pointing toward where 
Jackson and his brigade were desperately battling. Bee said: 
" Over yonder stands Jackson, like a stone wall! Let us go to 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



25 



his assistance." Saying that, Bee dismounted and led the 
4th Alabama to Jackson's position. Other re-enforcements 
coming up a vigorous charge was made pressing the Federals 
back. In this charge Bee fell mortally wounded. Bartow fell 
nearly at the same time within a stone's throw of the same 
spot. Before the Federals recovered from the impression made 
by this partial repulse they saw Kirby Smith's men advancing 
down the Warrenton pike upon their right rear (as before 
stated), and his unexpected appearance in that quarter struck 
them with an overpowering panic and caused their precipitate 
retreat from the field. 

The battle ended so suddenly that the Confederates could 
neither understand nor scarcely believe it. 





By thk CA]vrp=KiRB. 

BY rv4RS. S. D. HOBART. 




|E meet in joy and gladness 

Beside the cainp-fire's light, 
''And kindly greetings temper 
The chilling winter's night. 
Amid the song and laughter, 

The comfort, warmth, and glow, 
Our hearts recall the pictures , 
Of camp-fires long ago. 

" Come ! " rang from Freedom's watch- 
towers. 

And, answering to the call, 
You went, our manliest, bravest. 

Our light, our joy, our all, 
While mothers to their bosoms 

Their stripling first-born pressed, 
And whispered through their sobbing, 

" Dear land, we give our best ! " 

Beneath the Southern star-beams, 
By camp-fire blazing bright, 

You told the tales of skirmish. 
Of pickets, march, and fight. 



The songs that cheered the moments 
Ring down the aisles of time ; 

No songs so thrill the soldier 
As their wild, pulsing rhyme. 

" Glory, Hallelujah ! " 

Pealed through the startled trees ; 
" We'll rally 'round the flag, boys," 

Came floating on the breeze. 
With " Marching on to Richmond I 

The canvas walls resound, 
And tlie echoes chorus " Tenting 

To-night on the old camp-ground." 

" We're coming. Father Abraham I " 

Rings to the hills away. 
" Our flag shall float, forever ! " 

" Our own brave boys are they ! " 
" When this cruel war is over ■ 

No longer will we roam." 
" Tramp, tramp, the boys are march- 
ing ! " 

And the song of " The girls at 
home ! " 



26 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



Soon came the rude awak'ning ; 

Startled, but undismayed, 
You heard through widening circles 

The furious fusillade. 
O'er wounded, dead, and dying, 

Amid the cannons' roar, 
Unwavering and unswerving. 

Fair Freedom's flag you boi'e. 

Oh ! valiant, true, and steadfast, 

Through tempest, heat, and cold, 
Our country crowned you heroes. 

In those grand brave days of old." 
Though homesick, heartsick, weary, 

Daring the battery's breath. 
Your brave hearts never faltered 

While face to face with death. 



Then back from field and prison, 

A band of crippled men, 
The wreck of battle-surges. 

We welcomed you again. 
We saw your thin ranks falter, 

And wails of anguish sore 
Went up from home and hearthstone, 

For those who came no more. 

Still through the rolling ages 

Shall brightly glow their fame ; 
Still on our country's annals 

Their deeds of valor flame. 
And bands of patriot children. 

In spring-time's sunny hours. 
Shall rev'rent place above them 

Fair wreaths of spotless flowers. 



e^S^- 



-^^Sss 



A PRESENTIMENT DF HEATH. 

C. M. BABBITT, SPRINGFIELD, MASS. 



fWAS a member of Company E of 
the 37th Mass. Vols., and had a 
bunk mate by the name of James 
Perkins, who enlisted from the same 
town with myself (South Adams), who 
had a presentiment that he should be 
killed in the next battle our regiment 
was engaged in. After the battle of 
Chancellorsville we tried to argue him 
out of the idea, but he continued to 
assert that he knew he should be killed. 
On the night of July 1, and a portion 
of the day following, we were compelled 
to make a forced march of upwards of 
forty miles to reach Gettysburg for the 
action which occurred there. During 
the march my comrade James was so 
overcome with fatigue that he had to 
fall out of the ranks, and did not reach 
the battle field until a few minutes be- 



fore the rebels opened their terrible fire 
on the 3d. Our regiment was ordered 
to re-enforce a point in the lines at 
double quick, and just as we were get- 
ting under way, James turned to me 
and said, " Charley, this is pretty tough, 
to nearly march your life out to get 
here to be killed." The words were 
scarcely spoken when a piece of shell 
struck him just over the right ear and 
passed through his head, coming out 
above the left eye, killing him in- 
stantly. I fell over his body as he 
was breathing his last. The next 
morning, with my comrades Baldwin 
and Pettitt, I helped to put him in a 
rude grave and mark a board with his 
name, company, and regiment, which 
afterwards led to his remains being 
placed in the National cemetery. 



THE "TENDERFOOT.' 



THE PAINFUL PROCESS WHICH TRANSFORMED THE 
RECRUIT INTO THE SOLDIER. 



BY W. F. HINMAN, 65th OHIO. 



*^-^S >N war time the raw soldier was known to the veteran as a 
"tenderfoot," bearing to him the samerelation that a fresh 
i^Al^ arrival from " the States " did to the seasoned miner in the 
early days on the Pacific slope. The term "tenderfoot " was 
not out of place when applied to a recruit, as was clearly shown be- 
fore the end of his first day's march. There were few, indeed, who 
did not experience the wild, maddening pain from blisters upon the 
feet before the latter became toughened to macadamized turn- 
pikes and the scraping of the fearfully and wonderfully made 
armv shoe — known in the soldier's parlance of the time as the 
" ofunboat." A man was of but little account as a factor in war 
until he could march without becoming crippled. This, of course, 
refers particularly to infantry, which always forms the great 
body of an army, and must of necessity do most of the heav\' 
fighting ; and in long campaigns must move like the cattle which 
accompanied them to supply them with fresh beef, "on the hoof." 
Not till soldier^ are able to march twenty, thirty or even forty 
miles in a day, when necessity requires, and be able to fight when 
they get there, can they reach the full measure of usefulness. 

The distances mentioned for a day's march do not seem on 
paper a tenth as long as they do to a man tramping beneath a 
scorching sun, burdened with all the "traps " that make up a 
soldier's outfit. Many a man, wholly unincumbered, may walk 
fortv miles within t\vent\^-four hours without serious discomfort, 
but load him down with a musket, cartridge-box and accouter- 
ments, sixty or eight\^ rounds of ball cartridges, a bulging haver- 
sack containing all that he is to eat for three days, a canteen of 



28 CAMP AND FIELD. 

water, blanket, overcoat and knapsack, and before the march is 
half over he will be as much of a "used up man" as "Little Van" 
was declared to be in the old political campaign song of 184-0. 
Words seem to have lost their meaning when one who has ex- 
perienced them attempts to describe the utter exhaustion of every 
muscle and fibre and tendon of limb and body; the keen smarting 
where belts and straps have ground the dust into the sweating 
flesh and shoes have worn the skin from tender feet ; the aching 
of shoulders and back and legs that have borne the heavy burdens 
along the weary miles. 

During the late war the most serious mistake made at the out- 
set by the "tenderfoot" was that he greatly overestimated his 
carrying ability — his "tonnage," as a sailorwould say. Perhaps 
this was due, in a great measure, to the faulty ideas of himself 
and his friends as to what it was necessary for him to take to the 
field. When a boy left his home to "go for a soldier," the hearts 
of mother and sister palpitated with a loving desire to fit him 
out with everything possible in the way of home comforts. The 
average 3'oung patriot started for the war with a wheel-barrow 
load of clothing, a bed-quilt or two, books, photograph albums, 
toilet articles and gimcracks of ever^^ sort. Neither he nor the 
good home-folks had the slightest conception of the capacity of 
a knapsack, nor did the\^ for a moment imagine that before the 
close of his first day upon the road every pound he carried would 
seem a hundred. 

The shrinkage of the knapsack was the beginning of the process 
that gradual!}' transformed the recruit into the soldier. A novice 
ready for the march never failed to provoke a volle\' of good-na- 
tured gibes and jeers from the veteran soldiers, who had graduated 
from the school of experience. Thev, too, had tried to carry pon- 
derous knapsacks crammed with the gifts of loving but mis- 
guided friends. Their shoulders had ached and their blistered 
feet had smarted. The observing recruit could not fail to 
note the fact that their knapsacks — if they had any — were lean 
and shrunken, while half of them had none at all. The veteran 
learned to dispense \vith every unnecessar}' ounce of weight, and 
just in the ratio that he did this he increased his efficiency as a 
soldier. It was of the highest importance to learn, not how great 
a load a man could carry on his Ijack, but how little he could get 
along with and be ineasurablv comfortable. 

But the recruit, raging with enthusiasm and patriotic emotions, 
never would learn from an3^one else. He thought he could gauge 
his powers of endurance, and had to find out for himself; how 



CAMP AND FIELD. 29 

mistaken he was. So he responded with alacrity- to note of bugle 
or tap of drum, ga^-ly shouldered his great load of sixty or sev- 
enty pounds, and trudged bravely off at the command "March!" 
Before the end of the first mile was reached he began to learn 
something. When the bugle sounded for the first five-minutes' 
rest, after an hour's tramping, he was seriouslv arguing with 
himself whether it would not be the part of wisdom to jettison 
part of his cargo. Then, squatting in a fence corner, he would 
open his knapsack and take an inventorv of its contents to 
see if there was anything that he could spare. He was loth to 
give up those keepsakes and mementoes of affection, for he had 
not yet passed out of the sentimental stage into the practical. 
Quite Hkely he would come to the conclusion at this inspection 
that there w^as nothing that he could throw awa}^ without doing 
too great outrage to his tender sensibilities. Then, too, the few 
minutes of rest had partly restored him to his normal condition. 
He was fain to believe that he would vervsoon get used to it and 
then all would be well. Perhaps he was urged to this conclusion 
by the irritating taunts of the old soldiers, whose personal bag- 
gage consisted only of their blankets rolled up like big sausages 
with the ends tied together, and thrown over their shoulders. He 
would show them he could carry his load and travel as fast and 
as far as they could. So he would buckle up his knapsack and 
"sling" it cheerfully at the signal to "fall in." 

The second heat was like the first, onh' a good deal more so. 
The weight of knapsack and blanket and haversack and musket 
and cartridge box, and the aches and smarts, seemed to increase 
by the rule of geometrical progression. How he longed to drop 
into a fence-corner again before the column was half way to the 
next halting place! 

But his grit—" sand," the boys used to call it— wouldn't per- 
mit him to straggle, at least not yet. So he plodded on, sweating 
and straining and limping until the bugle sounded— and how 
unspeakably glad he was to hear it. Now the time had come 
when sentiment must go to the rear. Tearing open his knapsack, 
he flung away articles that loving hands had provided— not with- 
out a pang, but all the same, they had to go. Some more dear to 
his heart than the rest, he still clung to ; but these would follow 
at the end of the next hour. 

If I should live to the span of A/Tethuselah I would retain a 
vivid memory of the first march of the regiment which bore m v name 
upon one of its compan\^ rolls. We all had prodigious knapsacks. 
I didn't think anybody in the regiment had a bigger one than I did, 



30 CAMP AND FIELD. 

though I was but a bo\', rather punj than robust, who had laid 
aside books at college to go to war. The first few miles we 
tramped, looking like so many humped camels. Then began the 
inevitable "physicking" of the knapsacks, and during the rest of 
that da}' and all of the next the road was strewn with the debris. 
Two six-mule wagon loads might have been gathered, of notions 
that had been flung aside by a thousand suffering " tenderfeet." 
It was not a hard march, either — that is, it would not have been 
so considered two years later, when we had become "seasoned." 
It was only fort\' miles, and we took three days for it, but it pro- 
duced a more abundant crop of pains and aches and blisters than 
any succeeding tramp that fell to our lot, and we had our full 
share. It was in Kentucky, in the month of January. Toward 
the close of the first day, two or three inches of snow fell. Patriot- 
ism was at a low ebb as we scraped away the snow, pitched 
tents, made fires and cooked supper. I think among those unfor- 
tunate men whose "turn" it was to go on picket duty that night 
— no fires were allowed on the outposts — there was a feeling that 
thev didn't care a continental whether the Union was saved or 
not. 

We had been lying for a fortnight at Louisville, tramping 
around in mud ankle deep, and shivering in the raw Avintry air. 
Our tents then were the "Sibley" — conical in shape, supported by 
a long center-pole reaching to the apex, its foot resting upon a 
three-legged iron tripod. One of these tents was almost large 
enough tor a menagerie to show in. Twenty inen could live 
and move and have their being in it. These tents were exceed- 
ingly cumbersome, and when the enormous baggage trains wdiich 
trailed for miles behind a division during the first year of the war 
were reduced, the Sibley had to "go." 

While our teeth were chattering at Louisville, nearl}' ever}' 
"mess" had chipped in and bought a sheet-iron stove for the 
tent it occupied. These stoves were very comforting in cold 
weather while we lay in camp, but when it came to active cam- 
paigning thev soon disappeared. They were cylindrical in form, 
and about sixteen inches in diameter. We had a chap in our regi- 
ment who actually carried one of them on his back, strapped 
on the top of his knapsack, two or three hundred miles. It 
gave to the man an exceedingly grotesque appearance, and he 
was the butt of endless jests and practical jokes. He was a pep- 
pery German, and frequently lost his temper under the raillery of 
his comrades; but he stuck to his stove until warm weather 
came. 



PS gT THE GfPITHL FtOPI BDLL Ml 

How Mr. Lincoln and his Cabinet Received the Defeat. 







NE of the most illustrious groups brought together 
(luring the war with the South, was one which 
gathered in the War Department at Washington 
on the beautiful Sunday which witnessed the 
tragedy at Bull Run. The group was composed 
President Lincoln, William H. Seward, Simon 
Cameron, Salmon P. Chase, Gideon Welles, and 
Edwin Bates of the Cabinet; Colonels Townsend, Van 
Rensselaer, Hamilton, and Wright of General Scott's 
staff; General Mansfield commanding the defenses at 
Washington, and Col. Thomas A. Scott, of Pennsylvania. 
With maps of the field before them they watched the conflict 
of arms as it progressed. The military telegraph, which had 
not yet reached the efficiency which afterward characterized it, 
extended only to Fairfax Court House, from which point General 
McDowell kept the authorities advised of his movements. 
Hour after hour the couriers reported our gallant troops 
steadily forcing the enemy back. 

A dispatch had been received from General Patterson the 
evening before, announcing that Johnston had eluded him, but 
the possibility of Johnston's forming a junction with Beaure- 
gard that day was not thought possible. The day passed 
quietly, all looking forward with absolute confidence to Mc- 
Dowell's success. 

Up to half past three o'clock in the afternoon, advices from 
McDowell were frequent, the dispatch at that hour indicating 
that he was pressing Beauregard back to the Junction. From 
then until the shades of evening, an ominous silence settled on 
the telegraph. Conversation took a speculative turn on the 
cause of the sudden cessation of information from the field, but 



32 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



the general opinion was that McDowell, flushed with victory, 
was too busily engaged in securing its fruits to write dis- 
patches. As time wore on, speculation gave way to impatience, 
until the throbbing instrument broke the long silence saying, 
"Our army is retreating." There was no consternation, and 
but a feeble ripple of excitement. Whatever may have been 
the feelings and thoughts of these gentlemen they kept them 
closely veiled. 

Mr. Seward smoked on, but the days of his prophecy were 
ended. 

Col. Thomas A. Scott, turning to General Mansfield, said, 
"General, it would be well to man your fortifications and stay 
this retreat," and then left the department with the purpose of 
holding a consultation with General Scott. 



..->$=3-i< 



;->$^|^^- 



)^e:$<^ 



ARMY TEAMSTKRS. 



RMY teamsters were never apiwe- 
ciated at their true value by sol- 
diers in the field, for it vfus the 
general opinion that " any fool 
can drive mules." Those who 
tried the experiment found the team- 
ster's office not a sinecure. The suc- 
cessful handling of six stubborn, 
pugnacious brutes required a degree 
of patience, skill, and will power only 
developed by long experience. When 
the roads were dry and even, wagon 
driving was a pastime, but when the 
trains reached the mountain passes, 
or the roads became seas of mud, then 
the task was no joke. Mud, three feet 
deep, as tenacious as stiff clay could 
make it, rendered the movement of 
wagons and artillery a difficult opera- 
tion. The wheels were solid disks of 
mud, and the labor for both men 
and animals was multiplied four-fold. 
Then the genius of the teamster was 



manifested. With an inexhaustible 
vocabulary of oaths at command, 
and armed with a formidable snake 
whip, both were used with startling 
and telling effect. The air, blue with 
shocking profanity, and the huge whip 
whistling cruelly on the backs of the 
quivering brutes, gave them new 
strength, and the mired vehicle soon 
emerged from its muddy bed. It was 
a leading article of faith among team- 
sters that mules could only be driven 
by constant cursing, and they lived up 
to that belief with rare constancy. An 
attempt to drive a team of mules with- 
out indulgence in profanity invariably 
proved a failure, because the animals 
had become so accustomed to that 
method of persuasion that they would 
not move without it. Teamsters, as a 
class, were brave and untiring in their 
peculiar sphere of duty, but they got 
very little credit from the rank and file. 



CAMP AND FIKLD. 



33 



being generally looked upon as men 
who were unwilling to fight. They 
could fight, however, for the teamsters 
frequently saved their trains from capt- 
ure by stubborn resistance when at- 
tacked. Every wagon carried a loaded 
musket and the weapons were often 
used with deadly effect. 

Many a brave mule driver died like 
a hero in defending the property in- 
trusted to his charge, though there 



was seldom any record of such brav- 
ery. 

To see an ordnance train gallop upon 
a battle field was au exhilarating sight, 
for the teamsters were then in their 
glory. Coming up on a trot the 
wagons wheeled into line as cleverly as 
if the men were moving field pieces 
into position, and the mules strained 
every muscle and obeyed every com- 
mand with remarkable docility. 



KINDNESS NOT FORGOTTEN. 

Maj. Burke and the Qth Mass. Regt, 

^^^URING the war Major Burke, of 
|| || New Orleans, was in command 
•^^ of a detachment that captui-ed a 
part of the 6th Mass. Regt. He 
treated the prisoners as kindly as cir- 
cumstances would permit, and parted 
from them with expressions of courtesy 
and regret. Years passed and he heard 
not a word from any of them. But at 
the time of the great flood, when South- 
ern Louisiana lay prostrate and helpless 
under the sweep of turbulent waters. 
Major Burke, as chairman of the relief 
committee, received a dispatch from 
Boston, authorizing him to draw at 
sight for $10,000, This was one of the 
earliest responses to the pitiful ci'y that 
had gone up from a stricken community 
for help, and it touched and encouraged 
the major and his associates. Two 
hours later came another dispatch from 
Boston " draw for another .f 10,000," and 
in a few hours came a third dispatch 
donating another ifl0,000. 

With these dispatches came thfe state- 
ment : " The 6th Mass. remembers the 
kindness of Major Burke." 



AN ANECDOTE OF "JEB" STUART. 

By General Longstreet. 

fEB STUART was a very daring 
fellow, and one of the best cavalry- 
men America ever produced. At 
the second Manassas, soon after we 
heard of the advance of McDowell and 
Porter, Stuart came in and made a 
report to General Lee. When he had 
done so, General Lee said he had no 
orders at that moment, but he re- 
quested Stuart to wait a while. There- 
upon Stuart turned round in his tracks, 
lay down on the ground, put a stone 
under his head, and instantly fell 
asleep. General Lee rode away, and in 
an hour returned. Stuart was still 
sleeping. Lee asked for him, and 
Stuart sprang to his feet and said, 
" Here I am, General." 

General Lee replied, " I want you to 
send a message to your troops over on 
the left to send a few more cavalry 
over to the right." 

"I would better go myself," said 
Stuart, and with that he swung himself 
into the saddle and rode off at a rapid 
gallop, singing as loudly as he could, 
" Jine the cavalry." 




THE FIRST IRON-CLAD RAM. 

AN ATTEMPTTO RAISETHE BLOCKADE AT NEW ORLEANS. 

BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER IN ARMS. 
BIT J. R. i:o6i:.i:sTo»r. 



N '61, among the earliest orders I received from the 

Confederate government, was to report for duty 
A on board the steamer McRae, then fitting out for 
^ sea at New Orleans. The craft in question was 

perhaps of a hundred tons burthen. Above the 
tv^ water line and about a foot below, it was encased 

with railroad iron placed fore and aft, longitudi- 
^^^^^^** nally . Private persons had constructed this ram 

and when completed she became the property of 
the Confederate government; the battle of Bull Run taking place 
at about that time, she was named the Manassas. She did not 
carry battery, but depended wholly upon her ramming powers. 
It is worthy of consideration that in this hastily constructed 
ram there was a return to the method of Salamis and Actium; 
that, too, against artillery compared with which the cannon 
that thundered at Trafalgar were mere popguns, with the dif- 
ference that steam was substituted for oars and iron armor for 
the open deck. A single vessel like the Manassas, unarmed as 
she was, might easily have destroyed both the Greek and Per- 
sian fleets at Salamis and have turned the tide of battle at 
Trafalgar, Commodore Hollins having taken command of our 
little naval force at New Orleans, he determined to make an 
effort to raise the blockade of the river. By this time the Sum- 
ter had got to sea, and the machinery of the McRae proving 
defective, her orders to run the blockade were countermanded 
and she was permanently attached to Commodore Hollins's com- 
mand. The McRae was a propeller, mounting six guns, and in 



CAMP AND FIELD, 35 

addition to her, Commodore Hollins's squadron consisted of a 
side-wheel steamer, commanded by Captain Fry, a couple of 
tugboats, mounting a gun apiece, and the ram Manassas. 

The Federal blockading squadron lay at anchor in the river. 
It consisted of the steam corvette Richmond, the sail corvette 
Preble, and one other vessel whose name I have forgotten. 
Commander Hollins selected a dark night for the execution of 
his plan, which was as follows: To ram the Richmond with 
the Manassas and simultaneously to set adrift fire-ships in the 
river, above the enemy. Lieutenant Warley, executive officer 
of the McRae, was selected to command the Manassas. War- 
ley was known as a dashing, intrepid officer, whose readiness to 
obey an order would be equal to any danger attending its ex- 
ecution. By a singular coincidence he had served on board the 
Richmond, so that it was against his recent messmates and 
personal friends that he was about to act. With officers of the 
regular service it was civil war and no doubt of it. It was 
messmate against messmate; brother-in-arms against brother- 
in-arms; and it was only a stern sense of duty that could, 
under such circumstances, have made American officers take 
either side. For fire-ships two coal barges were loaded with 
combustible material and taken in tow by the tugs. On the 
night of the 12th of October we got under way and steamed 
down towards the enemy; the Manassas in the advance, fol- 
lowed by the tugs towing the fire-ships; the McRae and Fry's 
boat brought up the rear. 

There is nothing more trying to the nerves than to approach 
danger in the dark, a fact that I fully appreciated, while, with- 
out a word being spoken, we peered into the black night, with 
the expectation of finding ourselves at any moment under the 
broadside of a hostile ship five-fold more powerful than our 
own; for in the wide river and dark night the ram and tugs 
might readily have passed the enemy without either having 
seen the other. After a while, the fire-ships were seen in full 
blaze away down the river, but of the enemy, the Manassas, and 
the tugs, saw nothing till day dawned. The first object that 
met our view was the ram lying up against the bank, with 
Warley and his men standing on her rounded deck. "Well, 
what's the news? " " We struck the Richmond," was the reply, 
"but we can't tell what damage we did." The damage, as it 
turned out, was trifling. 



36 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



Just before the blow was struck Warle}^ took bis seat on a 
camp-stool to await the result, and the shock was sufficient to 
turn him and the stool over. If the Federal vessels had been 
commanded by a cool head they would have captured the 
whole of our mosquito fleet. As it was, at the first sight of a 
torch on the river they slipped their cables and made haste to 
bury their keels in the mud on the bar. There we found them 
wallowing in the morning and exchanged a few shots with 
them at long range. The Federal officer reported to Washing- 
ton that he had been driven on the bar by countless fire-ships 
and an iron-clad ram, and Commodore Hollins telegraphed to 
Richmond: "I have raised the blockade. I have peppered 
them well." 

JLLLJLXOOITA. 



rJNISMOUNTED from his horse, 
'4^ On the summit of the hill, 
D ^ Stood our gallant General Corse, 
And he stood erect and still. 

He could see them far below, 

From the summit where he stood, 

He could see them come and go. 
All the rebels under Hood. 

Under all the far-off trees 

He could see them form their lines, 
They were gathering like bees 

Beneath the oaks and pines. 

And the hero watched them now, 
As a man may look on death. 

With a clouding of the brow, 
And a quickening of the breath. 

For the traitors were a host 
That hourly swelled and grevr, 

And around him at his post 
The loyal men were few. 

Then heavenward looked he, 
And a prayer was in his eyes. 



But the banner of the free 

Waved between him and the skies. 

And the blue of heaven was blent 
With the stars, as if, just then, 

'Twas an answer God had sent 
To the leader and his men. 

Up the hill the flag of truce, 
With its folds of dingy white. 

Came as if it could seduce 
Our general from the fight. 

And the message that it brought 
From the rebel in the wood 

Was as if a coward wrought 
As a scribe for General Hood. 

" Now yield ye to our strength, 
Ere we come with might and main, 

For yield ye must at length, 

And the bloodshed will be vain." 

On the flag gazed General Corse, 
As in thought, but not in doubt ; 

Then he leaned upon his horse, 
And he wrote this answer out : — 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



37 



" Ye may come whene'er je will, 
Ye may come with might and main, 

I will answer for it still 

That the bloodshed is not vain." 

Back, underneath the trees, 
Went the flag of truce, and then, 

Like clouds of climbing bees. 
All the valley swarmed with men. 

No pen can paint the strife. 

Nor the long and desperate fight 

When we gave life after life 
For our flag and for the right. 



We saw the false ranks reel, 

And all the bloody morn 
They sank beneath our steel 

Like newly-ripened corn. 

Bleeding and faint our chief, 
But watching still, he stood. 

With a smile of grim relief, 
The retreating ranks of Hood. 

And he sighed, " I mourn the dead. 
For their blood has poured like rain, 

But 'twas true as truth I said, 
It sliould not be shed in vain." 



WHAT A BATTLE IS. 

The GalFi^, Uhe GaFii^©F2ade, fehe Ghapge, tihe WiQUmj 

BY A BATTLE-SCARRED VETERAN. 




/?^ S we formed in line 
(qJI with the cool 
^o green woods at 
our backs, the birds 
were singing, the butter- 
flies fluttering about on 
erratic wing, and a cow 
stood under a tree to our right and lazily chewed her cud and 
switched away the flies. 

It was midsummer, and the scene was so quiet and peaceful 
that our eyes would have grown sleepy, had we not known that 
ten minutes more was to change it into a raging hell. In the 
woods behind us we could hear the tramp of regiments and 
brigades — ^^in the forest across the peaceful meadow regiments 
and brigades of the enemy were coming into position. One 
could have crossed the meadow and scarcely noticed the prep- 
arations for the bloody struggle ready to begin. 



38 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Now came that dreadful silence which always falls upon an 
army just before the flame of destruction is lighted. It is this 
silence that makes men turn pale and tremble. If it lasts five 
minutes it seems a day. There is no loud talk — no words 
of jest. The most reckless man feels the weight of that omi- 
nous silence. If the line is to be dressed, the order is given in a 
low voice, and the men step softly. The horses feel the oppres- 
sion as well as the men. Some move uneasily about, others 
stand perfectly quiet, ears pointed forward, and eyes searching 
the woods beyond. 

Crash! Bang! Roar! 

The opening comes as suddenly as a thunder-clap, and there 
is a movement of relief up and down the line. The spell is 
broken, and men and horses are anxious to move. The song of 
birds gives place to the roar of guns, the sleepy haze to a cloud 
of smoke, and Peace stands aghast. 

The brigade to the left swings out and the one to the right is 
slowly hidden by the smoke. Bullets are singing over our 
heads and throwing up the dirt in front. 

All of a sudden the roar is increased. The enemy has planted 
a battery on the hill to our left, and is plunging shot and shell 
into the flank of all the troops on our right. Down our front 
sweeps an avalanche of destruction, breaking our own lines, 
and shattering others beyond. 

We change front to face the battery. The line in front stalks 
grimly into the smoke, and the line behind us makes its pres- 
ence known by a steady tramp! tramp! tramp! One cannot 
tell whether a single regiment or a whole brigade is moving off 
to charge the battery, for the smoke has drifted upon us until the 
tenth man to the left or right can barely be counted. We can 
hear no order, but the line goes straight ahead until clear of a 
dip in the meadow, and then it suddenly springs forward. Men 
cheer, but in that awful roar the voice of man could not be 
heard ten feet away. 

Men fall to the right and left. The line stumbles over 
corpses as it hurries on. There are flashes in the smoke-cloud, 
explosions in the air; men are stepped on or leaped over as they 
throw up their arms and fall upon the grass in agony of mortal 
wound. It is a nightmare of death. The rank and flle hear no 
orders, see no officers, and yet they push on. Bayonets are fixed, 
and we are upon the guns before we see our enemy. No one has 




Union Generals. 



1. MEADE. 



ROSECRANS. 3. BURNSIDE. 4. BANKS. 5. SEDGWICK. 6. M'CLELLAN. 

7. HALLECK. 8. KILPATRICK. 9. m'PHERSON. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 39 

an order to give, and no order could be heard. The line moves 
ahead or falls back as if it were controlled by a lever, and yet 
no one can see how. Each man acts for himself, and yet all 
act together. 

There is a struggle over the guns. Men are shot and bay- 
oneted as they ram home the charges. The guns are dis- 
charged upon struggling masses not ten feet from the muzzles. 
Now our lines retreat. Why so we cannot tell. A dozen of us 
are fighting over a field-piece, shooting, stabbing, and clubbing, 
but we fall back and reform. Half of the guns are silent, 
others are pouring grape into us across a space not three hun- 
dred feet wide. No one seems to give orders, but all at once 
our lines move forward again with a cheer. No one sees his 
right or left hand man. For the time each one is alone. The 
line bends back — doubles up — straightens out — surges ahead — 
falls back — springs forward, and again we are among the field 
pieces. Bayonets and sabers clash. Muskets are clubbed to 
deal blows after bayonets are broken. There is a terrible roar 
— a thick smoke — a constant cheering and the horrible night- 
mare forces a single man to attack a dozen. 

Ah! what is this? All at once there is a lull. Men look 
around in astonishment. Wounds unfelt five minutes ago 
begin to bring groans now. What has happened? The smoke 
drifts and the explanation is at hand. We have captured the 
guns and routed the regiment in support. It was a bayonet 
charge, resisted by bayonets, and we have won. There are ten 
acres of meadow covered with dead and wounded — with knap- 
sacks, haversacks, canteens, muskets, and swords, and yet it was 
only one simple move on the chess-board of the battle field. The 
guns are turned on the enemy, our lines reformed in rear, and 
men ask if it is really so, that we stalked in the shadow of death 
for half an hour. It seems like a dream; it might be a dream 
but for the awful sights all around us, but for the awful cries 
coming up from the wounded as thirst and pain do their work. 



^X-SENATOR POMEROY, of Kansas, states that on March 18, 1861, he and 
^^ a friend watched a delegation from the secession convention at Richmond, 
f^ saw them go to Gen. Lee's house at Arlington, heard them offer him the com- 
^ mand of the Virginia army, heard him accept, and then hurried back to Wash- 
ington and told the President. They w-ere referred to Mr. Seward, who repudiated 
any suggestion of Lee's disloyalty, and refused to take steps. Next day Lee was 
in command of the rebel army. 



Thrilling Experience of a tinion Scout. 

CAPTURED ON THE STONEMAN RAID.— THREATENED AS A 
A/ --r« I SPY.— ATTEMPTS TO ESCAPE. 




JOHN C. HALL, BELT, MICH. 





:2°ENERAL Capron would never surrender; but finding 
I was too badly wounded to follow him he made his 
escape with his command from the field. The severely 
wounded were removed to Confederate Colonel Has- 
kell's house. There 
1 was pointed out to the Con- 
federate officers by some of 
our own men as a spy, and 
was informed that if I lived 
until the next day I would 
be hung. That night John 
Smouse, of the 2d lud. Cav- 
alry, died from an amputa- 
tion and was buried at Sun- 
shine Church, and a board with 
my name, company, and regi- 
ment was placed at the head 
of his grave. The members of Company E, 14th Wis. Cavalry, 
can testify to this. 

We were now moved to Macon hospital, where my hair and 
beard were removed and I was known as John Culbert. 

A few days before the surrender squads of our men were sent 
out to destroy railroad and other pubhc property, but the boys 
frequently destroyed private property and confiscated articles 
of value to themselves. 

My duty as a scout brought me one day to a fine brick resi- 
dence not far from Sunshine Church, where I discovered some 
of our boys. I dismounted and went in to see what they were 
at. I found they had piled some fine furniture on a splendid 




CAMP AND FIELD. 41 

piano in the parlor and were about firing it. I tried, to dissuade 
them, telling them that we were not sent down there to make 
war on defenseless women and children, or to insult them and 
destroy their property. This only aggravated the boys; they 
made for me, and it was not until I knocked three of them 
down with the back of my saber that they could understand 
me. They then left, I threatening to report them. It occurred 
to me afterwards, as I lay in hospital at Macon, why I had been 
pointed out as a spy. 

As I recovered from my wound I was allowed the freedom of 
the hospital grounds. One day I met a paroled Federal officer 
— a prominent commander in the late disastrous raid. He 
turned to the guard and said, " You had better take care of that 
fellow (pointing to me); he is a dangerous man." The guard 

replied, "Mind your own d d business. You don't run this 

thing." I soon found out why I ijiet with so much considera- 
tion at the hands of the enemy. The people whose property I 
saved from conflagration came to the hospital, thanked me for 
what I had done for them, gave me a roll of Confederate 
money, and expressed a hope that they might give further 
assistance. 

I soon lost this soft thing, for we were sent to that world- 
wide renowned pen at Andersonville. Here I saw and heard 
things too terrible to mention. I can only say that, after all 
that has been said and written, "the half has not been told," 
and never should be. It would be too revolting for human ear. 
At the end of six weeks I made my escape. The dogs were put 
on my track, but I managed to avoid them. I wandered in the 
bush for several days; was captured near Griffintown and taken 
back to Macon. After five days I walked out into the country 
and hid in the bushes, making my way the best I could toward 
the Union lines. After three weeks I was recaptured near 
Millen and taken to Lawton. I remained there five weeks. I 
was sent out one morning with the wood squad and forgot to 
go back. I wandered in the woods several days and nights, 
until my feet were so frozen that I could not walk. A reb 
found me, took me to his home, made me comfortable, and in 
a few days turned me over to the proper authorities, and I was 
sent to Savannah prison. Escaping again, I went out on a rice 
plantation and remained secure for three weeks, when I heard 
they were exchanging prisoners at Charleston, so I went thither 



42 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



and gave myself up. But here I met with a sad disappoint- 
ment. I was put on a train with some other prisoners to be 
sent to Florence. We were put in a box car with two guards. 
Before reaching Florence we passed over a long trestlework. 
It was growing dark, and our guards were standing by the 
open side door lighting their pipes. Quick as a tiger I sprang 
upon them, pushed them from the car, and they fell clear off 
the bridge. Their guns went off when they struck the trestle- 
work, but I have never heard from the guards. At the first 
stop I escaped from the train, secure in the darkness. I wan- 
dered about several days, but becoming exhausted, I surren- 
dered to General Iverson, at Florence, who, in spite of all the 
unpleasantness between us at Stoneman's surrender, treated 
me very kindly. I remained at Florence until March, 1865, 
when I was exchanged and rejoined my old regiment. 



►1^ 



:f 



CARVED HIS OWN HEADBOARD. 

SINGULAR DEATH OF" A. SERGEANT-IVIAJOR. 

BY OLIVER EDWARDS, BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL, U. S. A. 



mli^EMONITIOXS of death in bat- 
^p tie prove false a hundred times to. 
one ; but I will relate an instance 
where it proved true, that occurred 
within my own command, the 4th 
Brigade, 2d Division, 6th Corps. It 
was at the close of a charge upon the 
enemy's lines, with my brigade shel- 
tered from heavy volleys of grape and 
canister by a slight rise of the ground 
in front. The regiments were jirone 
in line, and night closing in rapidly. 
One of my regiments (the 10th Mass., 
Col. J. B. Parsons), their time expiring 
that night, had their orders to proceed 
to City Point the next morning and 
embark for home. Sergt.-Maj. George 
F. Polly at this time carved upon a 
shingle, or slab, his own headboard, as 
follows: "Sergt.-Maj. George F. Polly, 
10th Mass. Vols. Killed at Petersbura-, 



Va., June 21, 1864" — the date being 
for the next day, when he knew the 
regiment was going home. He handed 
the headboard to a comrade and in- 
sisted that he would be killed the 
next day. At daylight next day the 
regiment was i-elieved from duty and 
marched to the rear of Sugar Loaf 
Hill, and halted to draw rations. On 
the top of the hill two negroes were on 
a scaffold to be executed for rape. The 
rebels fired one shell from a twenty- 
pound siege gun. The shell passed 
over the hill and burst. A large frag- 
ment struck Sergeant-jNIajor Polly, in- 
stantly killing him. He was the only 
man hit, and that, too, in a position 
where he seemed perfectly safe. Any 
member of the brave 10th Mass. then 
present can vouch for the truth of the 
above. 



RECOLLECTIONS 

OF A.'S 

ARMT # NURSE. 

MRS. M. M. C. RICHARDS. 



^^r* 



m 



UCH zeal 
and linen 
were wast- 
ed in the early- 
days of have- 
locks and lint- 
scraping, and 
many yards of 
cotton expended 
in fashion- 
ing shirts and 
drawers so large 
that no Yankee 
soldier could pos- 




sibly fill one, ex- 
c e p t he were 
measured by his 
courage and en- 
durance. One 
pair fell into our 
hands, measuring 
eight feet in 
length and wide 
in proportion. 
These were laid 
aside at the sug- 
gestion of a Bos- 
ton surgeon for 



mush poultice bags into which the patient should be slipped 
and tied up. 

The first volunteer hospital was opened to the sick men of 
the 19th Ind. Regt. in the unfinished wing of the United 
States patent office, by the action of Caleb Smith, Secre- 
tary of the Interior. This was in its beginning a rude affair, 
and when we entered with Mrs. Almira Fales into the rough, 
comfortless wards we were dismayed. But her cheerful order, 
"Go to work, girls, wash their faces, comb their hair, do 
what you can,"— and her salutation to the men, " Now, boys, I 
guess you'll get well; I've brought some young ladies to 
see you,"— lent an atmosphere of cheer to the scene, for the 
moment at least. The sick boys were lying on rough boards, 
or on tiles placed against the walls, with or without mattresses 



44 CAMP AND FIELD. 

as it happened. Surgeons and hospital stewards and women 
worked in a confused way without order or direction. But 
from disorder and discomfort gradually came a well ordered 
hospital, which was opened to patients from all regiments, but 
still called the Indiana hospital. 

But that was in the summer of '61, and we could smile at the 
wants of wounded men then. Later on came pathetic scenes at 
which we did not smile — one when Tyler, of Michigan, was 
brought in, accidentally shot through both knees while gather- 
ing wood for a camp-fire. The surgeon trying to save both 
limbs waited too long, and one sorrowful day the nurse found 
the usually cheerful fellow crying like a child at the decision of 
the surgeon just made known to him. "My leg has got to be 
amputated to-morrow; I wish it could be done to-day if it has 
got to come off " — and then the thought of going home crippled, 
it was almost better not to go at all. '' But you'll stay by me, 
won't you?" On the promise given in response to this he relied. 
The next day, stretched upon the rude amputating table, he 
looked about for the nurse, and taking her hand said. "Now 
let me go to sleep," and so seemed content till the blessed 
chloroform deadened all thought or care. Though the opera- 
tion was successful, and all the first conditions good, a second- 
ary hemorrhage occurred after the first dressing, and we could 
only sit by the poor fellow as his life ebbed away. In the 
winter, small-pox appeared and many of the boys were sent to 
Kalorama, to the government pest-house. The first case I re- 
member to have been a red-headed man who begged to have 
his hair brushed to ease the pain in his head. He presently 
remarked that he guessed that "brush would take the hide off." 
The surgeon passing by stopped to examine the pustules that 
appeared, and hastily advised no more brushing. The man 
was at once removed to an outer hall, and the ambulance car- 
ried him away. 

The summer of 'G2 found better hospital accommodations for 
the army, and the Indiana hospital was closed. Now came a 
chance to go " to the front." All the world was crying " On to 
Richmond," and on to Richmond we essayed to go. Mrs. 
Almira Fales had already made an expedition to the army 
at Savage Station, and there distributed to the soldiers 
bountiful supplies furnished generously from the North. She 
had returned to Washington to replenish her stores, and 



CAMP AND FIELD. 4b 

now proposed a second journey. She remarked that " those 
boys had been fed on lint and bandages long enough; I'm 
going to take them some goodies." The writer was, to 
her great delight, allowed to accompany Mrs. Fales as 
her assistant, and, armed with passes from the Secretary of 
War, we went to Fortress Monroe, only to learn that no farther 
could we go at present. We were ordered to proceed to the James 
river, casting anchor about dark alongside the gun-boat Port 
Royal. A little boat's crew came to visit us and the crowd on 
deck are electrified by the news we hear from them. " Mc- 
Clellan cut to pieces, the left wing twenty-three miles back, 
and the whole army on the skedaddle," The captain of the 
Port Royal gives the parting advice to Captain Woods of the 
Daniel Webster to " hurry up in the morning, keep all the ladies 
below, and don't be surprised to see a shot across your bows any 
time." 

July 1, I wake early to find ourselves steaming rapidly up the 
James river. Reach Harrison's Landing at seven o'clock. 
Find crowds of sick, wounded, and worn-out men engaged in 
the recent battles. It is not long before Mrs. Fales and I are 
among them. None of these were very seriously wounded, but 
all were seriously hungry and demolished the rations with the 
skill of veterans. Mrs. Fales's supplies furnish all the pro- 
visions we have for the sick, and she deals them out lavishly all 
day long, forgetting even to eat any dinner herself. For my 
own part I am busy helping here and there. Some wounds I 
wash and bandage. One shattered finger I wash and leave 
covered till a surgeon comes. He takes out his knife and 
before I know it the finger is left there for me to pick up and 
throw away! One man was struggling in vain to dress a 
wound on his shoulder. Offering to help him I found him so 
in need of cleaning up generally that I proposed that he should 
wash his face first. "Wash my face," said he, as if the idea 
were new, ''why I haven't washed my face since the 24th of 
June! " " Well," said I; '' would you like to try it for a change? " 
"I guess so," he answered; "you see we hadn't any water to 
spare for our faces down on the Chickahominy; we drank 
water that we wouldn't give to a dog at home." I brought him 
a basin of water, soap, towel, and a clean shirt and left him to 
these luxuries. You should have heard him laugh when I 
came again to find him. "Don't know me now, I'm so clean, 



46 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



do you?" This story is good to tell to those who are fond of 
quoting that other story of the young lady who went one morn- 
ing into a city hospital and proposed to bathe the head of a 
sick soldier. The soldier declined her offer with thanks, but 
she insisted, saying, " Let nie bathe your head, I want so much 
to be useful." "Well," he sighed, "you can if you want to so 
bad, but you are the fourteenth one as has done it this 
morning." 

COMPIvKTKLY UNNERVKD. 




'HE following comes from a 
Grand Ai-my man in Maine : — 
" It was at the battle of 
Gettysburg, when the bullets 
were falling like hail, and the shells 
■were shrieking and bursting over our 
heads in a way to make the bravest 
heart tremble, that a private dropped 
out of the ranks and skulked back 
toward the rear. He was well under 
way, when, unfortunately for him, he 
was met by General Slocum coming to 
the front. 

" ' What are you doing here ? Get 
back to your post ! ' the General 
shouted. 

" The poor fellow stopped still and 
trembled like a leaf, but made no reply. 



" ' Get back to your post, you misera- 
ble coward ! Aren't you ashamed of 
yourself to be skulking back here when 
you should be in front with your brave 
comrades ? ' 

" Still the man made no reply, but 
commenced to cry like a year-old in- 
fant. 

" ' You infamous, sneaking coward ! ' 
shouted the infuriated General, 'get 
back to your post 1 I'll ride you down 
like a dog. Why, you are nothing but 
a baby.' 

" ' I-I-I'll t-t-tell you what, General,' 
said the blubbering fellow, ' I'd g-g-give 
anything just now if I was a b-b-baby; 
and i-i-if I had my choice I'd rather be 
a female b-b-baby.' " 



SHERIDAN'S OPINION OF GRANT. 



!SAW General Grant for the first 
time on the battle field at Shiloh. 
General McPherson, whose picture 
hangs there, was with him at the time. 
Although we had belonged to the same 
regiment we had never met before. 
After the Mississippi campaign I met 
General Grant a second time, and after- 
ward I was thrown with him more or 
less. When he became lieutenant gen- 
eral, he placed me in charge of the 



cavalry service of the Army of the Po- 
tomac. I accompanied him to Florida 
and to Mexico, and our acquaintance was 
not only intimate, but almost lovable. 
He was a far greater man than people 
thought him. He was always able, no 
matter how situated, to do more than 
was expected of him. That has always 
been my opinion of General Grant. I 
have the greatest admiration for him, 
both as a mau and as a commander. 



BAtriiE 0F PEA RIBGE. 

March 7, 1862. 

A TERRIKIC STRUaOLK KOR VICTORY. 

(BY ONE WHO WAS THERE.) 




HE battle opened by an attack upon the right of 

the Union line near Elkhorn Tavern, where the 

^ 24:th Missouri was stationed. Colonel Carr at once 

advanced to the relief of this outpost, which movement 



brought on the 
battle. Curtis's 
gallant divi- 
sion moved 
into position 
under fire, and 'i^ 
Davis was or- 
dered to sup- 
port it, but a 
sudden attack 
on the left 
changed the 
direction of 
the latter to 
steadv lines. 




the relief of 
O s t e r h a u s. 
General Curtis 
says: " The 
battle raged in 
the center with 
terrible fury. 
Colonel Davis 
held the posi- 
t i o n against 
fearful num- 
bers and our 
troops stood 



or charged in 
The fate of the battle depended on success 
against this flank movement of the enemy, and here, near 
Leetown, was the place to break it down. The fall of Generals 
McCulloch, Mcintosh, and other officers of the enemy, who fell 
early in the day, aided us in our final success at this most critical 
point; and the steady courage of officers and men in our lines 
chilled and broke down the hordes of Indians, cavalry, and 
infantry that were arrayed against us. While the battle raged 
in the center the right wing was sorely pressed, and the dead and 
wounded were scattered over the field. Colonel Carr sent for 



48 CAMP AND FIELD. 

re-enforcements and I sent a few cavalry and my body guard, 
Avith the little mountain howitzers, under Major Bowen, These 
did good service at a most critical period. I urged Colonel Carr 
to stand firm — that more force could be expected soon. Subse- 
quently Colonel Carr sent me word that he could not hold his 
position much longer. I could then only reply by the order 
'persevere.' He did persevere, and the sad havoc in the 9th 
and 4th Iowa and Phelps's Missouri and Major Weston's 24th 
Missouri, and all the troops in that division, will show how 
earnest and continuous was their perseverance." 

Sigel, detecting McCulloch's movement to join forces with 
Price, attempted to intercept it with cavalry and three pieces 
of artillery. By a vigorous onslaught of the Indian cavalry , 
our guns were captured, the cavalry routed, and the way 
opened for McCulloch to obtain for his infantry the cover of a 
dense wood, on the west of which was a large open field. Here 
ensued a protracted and fearful struggle between McCulloch 
and the forces under Osterhaus, who, by hard fighting, held his 
position until the arrival of Davis with his division, when, by a 
gallantly executed charge, the Confederates were driven from 
the field. In the crisis of the struggle McCulloch dashed for- 
ward to reconnoiter, and fell a victim to his rashness. Almost 
at the same moment Mcintosh fell while leading a cavalry 
charge upon a Union battery. Deprived of these two favorite 
generals the shattered forces of the enemy retired in dismay to 
rally on Price's corps. 

The conflict raged with unremitting fury on the right and 
center, where Price, in a determined attempt to carry that posi- 
tion, had pushed his troops into the fight regardless of loss. At 
3 P. M. General Curtis ordered Sigel to re-enforce the 3d and 
4th Divisions. 

Colonel Carr, covered with blood from three wounds, with one 
arm disabled, was falling slowly back, contesting the ground 
step by step. Many of his field officers had fallen; and the 
ground in his front, covered with wounded and dying, told 
how stubborn had been the resistance of the heroic 4th 
Division. The 4th Iowa, falling back for ammunition, 
dressing on its colors in perfect line, was met by General 
Curtis, who ordered the regiment to face about and hold its 
position until re-enforcements should arrive. Colonel Dodge 
rode forward and explained that his men were out of car- 



CAMP AND FIT^LD. 49 

tridges. "Charge with the bayonet, then/' said Curtis. The 
men faced about at the order, and, with a cheer, pressed for- 
ward. The enemy, not liking the glittering steel, fell back, 
and the lost ground was won. 

Arboth planted his artillery in the road and opened on the 
enemy. The 2d Missouri deployed and pressed forward. 
The shades of night were falling, but the fight raged with 
increasing vehemence. Colonel Osterhaus had moved to the 
support of General Davis, who, with a portion of his division, 
was still engaged on Carr's left; but it was too late when he got 
into position to open fire, and his weary troops bivouacked 
upon the field. 

On the right the firing continued until the batteries ran out of 
ammunition (the Confederates firing the last shot), when the 
two divisions arrayed along the edge of a piece of timber with 
fields in front, sought rest in sleep. 

The loss on Curtis's right had been compensated by victory on 
his left. The discipline of Carr's division prevented anything 
like panic. They had been forced back by superior numbers, 
but had held together, and, in proportion to numbers, the divi- 
sion was as strong for service as before the conflict began. 
Van Dorn's headquarters were at Elkhorn Tavern, where 
Curtis had been the previous morning. Each army held its 
opponent's line of retreat. There was no recourse but to fight 
for their communications with their respective bases. It is 
said that several officers of the Union army met at the 
headquarters of a division commander, and sending for the 
colonel of a cavalry regiment, directed him, in case of defeat, 
to hold his men in readiness to escort them to the open country 
in the rear of the Confederate lines. They were, however, 
prevented from rivaling the exploit of Floyd and Pillow, by a 
timely return of reason and the dawn of day. 

The fight of the following morning was brief, but was hotly 
contested. 

With the rising sun the Union troops renewed the con- 
test with Price, Davis's division opened the fight from one of 
his batteries, which was replied to with terrible correctness by 
three of the Confederate batteries posted where they would do 
the most execution. The entire Union line now advanced. 
The dark blue line of the 36th Illinois in front steadily rose 
from base to summit of the ridge whence the Confederate bat- 



50 CAMP AND FIELD. 

teries had dealt death and destruction to the Union ranks. The 
12th Missouri also rushed into the enemy's lines, bearing off a 
flag and two pieces of artillery. 

The roar of artillery was deafening, for every gun continued 
firing until it was captured or driven back. When Van Dorn 
determined to withdraw from the field, he left Col. Henry 
Little, with a Missouri brigade, to hold the field as long as 
possible. For two hours this com'mand held their position in 
support of several batteries. Unshaken by the tremendous 
artillery fire converged upon them, they remained until their 
ranks were decimated, their artillery horses killed, and their 
guns dismounted by the terrible fire. Then onward crept the 
skirmish line, and behind them the artillery. The range short- 
ened, no charge by the Confederates could save them now. A 
sudden rush and rapid firing by the skirmishers drove them to 
the shelter of the woods, whence they were dislodged by a 
charge all along the Union line, and the retreat of Van Dorn's 
army was revealed to the astonished gaze of the Union troops. 
Van Dorn retired with his beaten army south of the Boston 
Mountains, where Curtis could not follow him. 

• — ^-s-"? — »*o — ♦—§-<—— 

THE HEROIC McCOOK FAMILY, 



^IMHE venerable mother of that dis- Tennessee, having gone in his ambu- 
q^^ tinguislied family of soldiers, the lance, to which he vv'as confined by 
" fighting McCooks," of Ohio, has sickness, a short distance ahead of his 
been laid to rest with her group of heroes brigade. When Morgan made his raid 
in Spring Grove Cemetery in Cincinnati, into Ohio, Maj. Daniel McCook, al- 
She had twelve children, nine of them though sixty-seven years old, white 
sons, and eight of the sons were at haired, and not connected with the 
some time during the War of the Re- army, joined the forces that pursued 
bellion engaged in the military service him, and received a mortal wound in 
under the Union flag. One who was the fight on Buffington Island, July 21, 
educated at West Point became a major 1863. Brig.-Gen. Daniel McCook was 
general, two who joined the volunteer killed in the attack on Kenesaw Mount- 
army from civil life became brigadier ain, June 27, 1861. 
generals. Three of her sons and her The other five soldier sons survived 
nusband were killed by the enemy, the perils of that war, but one of them 
Charles Morris McCook, a private, was afterward fell in an Indian fight. Of 
killed in the first Bull Run battle, 21st Mrs. McCook's twelve children, but two 
July, 1861. Brig.-Gen. Robert L. Mc- sons and two daughters survived their 
Cook was murdered by guerrillas in mother. 



JUST * LIKE ii LINCOLN. 

A Twelve -Dollar Telegram and the Answer it Brought* 

November. 1864. 

THOS. J. STEVENS, 1st Sergt. Co. B, 122d 111. Inf. Vols. 





^ N October, 18G4, 1 was acting adjutant at the con- 
valescent barracks in St. Louis, Mo. There were 
400 in the barracks awaiting the return of the 16th 
corps from its pursuit of Price. PoHtics ran high. 
About one-third of the boys were for "• Little Mack," 
the others strongly in favor of the re-election of 
"Uncle Abe." Nearly all the Western states were 
represented in the barracks. About one hundred 
of us were Illinois men, which state, owing to its 
copperhead legislature of the previous year, did not permit its 
soldiers to vote in the field or away from home. Most of the 
loyal states had made provision for their soldiers to vote in the 
field in all general elections. As the day of election drew near 
the anxiety of the " boys" to exercise " the rights of freemen" 
became intense. Rebel sympathizers had spread the report that 
the McClellan men would not be furloughed to vote against " Old 
Abe"; but orders were issued by the President to furlough as 
many men belonging to states refusing their soldiers a vote 
away from home as the good of the service would warrant and 
for such length of time as would be necessary to return home 
and get back to their commands. In compliance with this 
order, thousands were allowed to go home and vote — vote as 
they pleased — without fear or reward from their superior 
officers. All were treated alike, whether Republicans or Dem- 
ocrats. The result was that many soldiers who had intended 
voting for "Little Mack," voted for " Uncle Abe," because he 



52 CAMP AND FIELD. 

had given them the opportunity of voting against him — such are 
the perversities and contradictions of human nature! Lieuten- 
ant Chapman, of my regiment, was in command of our bar- 
racks. When we began to look for a chance to go home to 
vote, no one could be found who commanded him lower in 
rank than the department commander, who was several hun- 
dred miles away in the field after Price, where it was impossi- 
ble to get an order from him for furloughs. His adjutant- 
general at St. Louis decided that he could do nothing, and told 
us thathe had telegraphed to the Secretary of War, and could 
get no reply, and we must give it up. 

Having heard of Mr. Lincoln's kindness of heart for the "boys" 
and his disregard for red tape, it was suggested to the lieuten- 
ant that we telegraph the President, stating our case briefly 
and asking him to authorize the lieutenant to give us furloughs 
— the Illinois men for five days, and those from more distant 
states for ten days. This was not received with favor except 
by the lieutenant and a few of the more sanguine believers in 
"Uncle Abe." I wrote out the dispatch and read it to the as- 
sembled crowd. The Lincoln men said it was useless, as the 
President would not notice it unless it came through the regu- 
lar channels. The McClellan men said they knew they would 
not be furloughed anyway, if others were, and that they would 
go to no trouble about it; but wait till they did get a chance, 
and they would show the Abolitionists whether they could run 
things, and whether a white man wasn't as good as a nigger! 
After a long discussion, in which the lieutenant and I assured 
them that all should be treated alike, it was decided to send a 
man to the telegraph office, three miles away, and find out 
what it would cost to send it to Washington. The man returned 
with the astounding information that it would cost twelve dol- 
lars! None of us had been paid off for several months, and were 
strapped, so the raising of such a large amount proved a serious 
undertaking; but finally this sum was made up and the dis- 
patch sent. Next evening an answer came, signed by the 
President, directing Lieutenant Chapman to furlough the men, 
as requested in our message. Great was the rejoicing when this 
was read. Three cheers and a tiger were given with a vim 
for "Old Abe," the McClellan men outvying the Lincoln men, 
if possible, in their demonstrations of delight at the good news. 
Nearly all the McClellan men declared that they would never 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



53 



vote against " Uncle Abe," and so far as I could learn, not one 
of them did. 

Lincoln was far wiser than any of his generals, and knew 
better than they how to reach the hearts of his soldiers, because 
his own generous heart was always concerned for the rights, 
the needs, the privations, and the sorrows of "those who bore 
the burden of the battle," that "a government of the people, by 
the people, and for the people, should not perish from the 
earth." 



SEXTON BROWN AND NATHANIEL P. BANKS. 




^!^^NE Sunday, during the war, the 
^1^^ late Sexton Brown of Grace 
Church, New York, was perform- 
ing the duty of grand usher at 
the church, when a soldier, who 
presented a seedy appearance, 
walked up the main aisle and 
took a seat near the chancel. 
All at once there was a buzz among the 
congregation, and the sexton stepped 
up to the stranger, and tapping hun on 
the shoulder, said : — 

" I will show you to a seat, sir." 
The soldier rose and followed BrowTi, 
who led him to a rear pew. As he en- 
tered the pew and was about to sit 
down, the stranger removed liis faded 
overcoat and disclosed a handsome, 
brand-new military suit, with the straps 



of a major-general upon the shoulders. 
Then there was another hum of con- 
versation and a rustling of silks as the 
congregation moved in their pews to get 
a view of the man. Again Sexton Brown 
approached the soldier, and said : — 

" General, I'd be pleased to give you 
a good seat." 

" Oh, never mind," said the military 
gentleman. "I'm much obliged to you. 
I've been among the commoners for the 
last year or two, and I guess I can 
worship God back here among them as 
well as up in front." 

Brown retired as gracefully as possi- 
ble, and was quite surprised before the 
service was over to learn that the sol- 
dier in the seedy overcoat was Maj.- 
Gen. Nathaniel P. Banks. 



EIGHTY-SIX BATTLES. 



BUTLER "BOTTLED UP." 



It is said that some of the regiments 
of the 5th Army Corps participated in 
eighty-six battles — no flag can possibly 
hold all the names. We venture to say 

ithat there never was a corps in ki 
any other army that can show 9 
such a gallant record as this. fi 



The term " Bottled Up," as applied to 
Gen. Butler, did not come from Gen. 
Grant but Gen. Barnard. Gen. Barnard 
reported to Gen. Grant the condition 
of affairs in Gen. Butler's department, 
and, drawing a sketch of the locality, 
said he is effectually " bottled up." 




APRIL 7, 1862. 

The Second Day's Fight— Greatest Battle Ever Before Fought 
On This Continent. 

BY ALEXANDER S. JOHNSTONE, FIRST SERGT. CO. H, U. S. ARTILLERY. 
^ S-e X- 

J|[^HE battle of Shiloh on the 6th and 7th of April, 
■'yj 1862, was, at the time, the greatest battle ever 
fought on this continent. On the first day the 
Union forces sustained an overwhelming defeat, 
the camp and garrison equipage of the army, 
several batteries, and nearly three thousand 
prisoners being captured by the Confederates. On the sec- 
ond day the Union army gained a decisive victory, re- 
capturing in turn their camp and garrison equipage, and 
twenty pieces of artillery. It will be my province to treat of 
the second day's battle, writing only what came under my 
observation. The brigade to which our battery belonged 
(Boyle's, of Crittenden's division) arrived at Savannah, Tenn., 
at 12 M., on Sunday, April 6. 

Although the sound of artillery was heard all the morning, 
we little dreamed that a great battle was in progress until we 
entered Savannah and saw the wounded, who had arrived in 
transports from the field. Shiloh was nine miles by water, but 
in an air line only five miles distant. Nelson's division, which 
arrived ahead of ours, left Savannah at 1 p. m. for the scene 
of action, marching up the right bank of the Tennessee river. 
As the road which they had to traverse was swampy, the 
artillery had to be left behind. It was about three o'clock 
before a steamer arrived at the wharf for our battery. 

Of Buell's forces, there were on the field at daybreak, Mon- 
day, Nelson's division in line of battle, the most of Crittenden's 
division, and none of McCook's. Buell was in consultation 
with Grant during the night at Sherman's headquarters. The 



CAMP AND FIELD. 55 

agreement arrived at was that Buell should make the attack on 
the enemy's right at daybreak. Nelson's skirmishers could be 
heard far in the front. 

Crittenden's division was in the rear of Nelson's, Ammen's 
brigade was on the left, Bruce's in the center, and Hazen's on 
the right, moving forward in line of battle. Buell halted it 
to allow Crittenden's division to complete its deployment on 
Nelson's right. Nelson again advanced, but finding the Con- 
federates strongly posted on his front fell back, having no 
artillery. During the above movements our battery was or- 
dered forward to take position some three hundred yards from 
it and diagonally to the right. 

Our battery consisted only of four guns, two three-inch rifled 
Rodmans and two twelve-pound howitzers. We halted in front 
of a clearing about ten acres in extent; the two rifled guns 
went into position on the left of the clearing, the two howitzers 
on the right. The two rifled guns opened fire, throwing shells 
far in towards the Confederate lines, but the enemy's sharp- 
shooters began picking off our men. Having lost four men in 
about ten minutes the section limbered up and got out of the 
way. The section on the right unlimbered for action, but 
seeing a body of Confederates advancing as if to charge, it 
limbered up also, both sections joining and taking a new posi- 
tion to the right, and forward of the clearing. We had thrown 
the gauntlet of defiance. 

The Confederates soon opened with two batteries, and a 
spirited artillery fight took place, Bartlett's battery coming to 
our relief. In a short time the Confederate batteries withdrew 
and we ceased firing. A lull of thirty minutes took place. 
Suddenly there opened on our front the most terrific musketry 
fire I ever heard. It was a continuous roar. Our troops, 
though green, withstood the assault bravely, our battery firing 
with great rapidity. The Confederates finally retreated from 
our front. On our left Nelson's division was being roughly 
handled. Three batteries had opened on his front. Buell sent 
our battery to his relief. Firing with great rapidity and 
accuracy, we silenced the center battery, when Hazen's brig- 
ade charged upon it, capturing the guns. 

The two opposing batteries opened upon them, driving them 
back beyond their original line. Nelson was sorely pressed, 
the Confederates advancing along his whole front. There 



56 CAMP AND FIELD. 

was danger of his flank being turned, so Buell sent forward 
Terrell's battery. It had thus far taken no part in the action. 
Dashing past Ammen's line it quickly unlimbered and opened a 
rapid fire, but the opposing battery, concentrating its fire upon 
it, compelled it to retire. Animen's brigade had fallen back, but 
re-enforced by a regiment sent to his aid by General Buell, it 
now moved forward to the ground where the enemy had been. 
The most of McCook's division had arrived by this time and 
were placed on Crittenden's right. Buell in person led our bat- 
tery to a new position, the 13th and 19th Ohio supporting us. 

There was then a quiet, premonitory of a coming storm. It 
soon came; so suddenly and with such boldness, that the 
13th and 19th Ohio broke for a time and passed to the 
rear. Lieutenant Parsons gave orders to the men of the 
battery, " Unhitch the traces and save the horses," but 
Captain Mendenhall exclaimed: "We lose all or none!'" 
Running back to our guns we opened a rapid and accurate fire 
with canister on the advancing line, which kept it at bay. 
The 13th Ohio, under Colonel Smith, rallied to our relief, 
dashing to our front when our battery ceased firing. In a 
short time the Confederates opened a terrific fire on a part of 
Nelson's line, where Terrell's battery was, and essayed to capt- 
ure it. Fixing prolonges, it kept up a rapid fire as it retreated. 
It was making a gallant fight, which called forth the admira- 
tion of our battery. The cannoneers at one of his guns were 
all either killed or wounded, and volunteers from the Gth 
Ohio took their place. A regiment was sent forward to 
Nelson's relief, and with rapid volleys the Confederate line 
at that point was sent reeling back in disorder. We were now 
pressing the Confederates steadily back along the whole line, 
and our battery took its last position. 

A storm was brewing in our front which we little expected. 
It came in the shape of the most galling musketry fire we had 
ever encountered. All the canister for our howitzers was 
expended. Some rifle canister being left we used that, and 
when the last canister was fired the captain gave orders to 
cease firing. The Confederates were, however, retreating 
along the whole front and the second day's battle of Shiloh 
was won. 



\^\{la @ Seemes @ ^t ® ^fiiloR, 



April 6, 7, 1S62. 



A Day of Southern Success, followed by a Day of Disaster. 

HOW GENERAX, JOHNSTON FELL.— BEAUREGARD'S APPEARANCE 
ASrONG THE YELLOW JACKETS. 



Bv B. F. SAWYER, Colonel 24TH Alabama Regiment. 




T was a beautiful Sabbath morning at Shiloh. The air 
was fresh and bahny as a morning in June. Our 
forces consisted of General Polk's 1st, General Bragg's 
2d, General Hardee's 3d, and General Breckinridge's 



reserved corps, 
with the cav- ^' , 
airy division —: 
of General / 
Gardner, mak- / [ 
ing a total ef- 
fective force of 
some 4 0,000 
men. General 
Johnston's plan 
of battle con- 
sisted of three 
lines in the fol- 
io win a; order: 




General Har- 
d e e 's corps, 
s t r e n gthened 
b y Gladden's 
brigade of 
Bragg's corps, 
constituted the 
first line, ex- 
tending from 
Owl Creek on 
the left to Lick 
Creek on the 
right. This 
line fell per- 



pendicular to and across the Corinth road, a distance of three 
miles. The second line, consisting of the remainder of Bragg's 
corps, was drawn out parallel with, and two hundred yards to 
the rear of the first, and was to conform its movements to the 
first. The third line was similarly disposed, i. e., five hundred 
yards in the rear of the second, and was to conform to its move- 
ments. This line consisted of Polk's corps. Breckinridge's 
corps was massed in the rear of the center of Polk's, and was 



58 CAMP AND FIELD. 

to move forward in column, ready to be deployed when and 
wherever support should be needed. 

The woods in the immediate front of our brigaJe and 
through which we had to pass to reach the enemy, were a 
tangle of swamp, bushes, and brambles, and exceedingly diffi- 
cult to penetrate. Now and then a small patch of cleared 
ground around a cabin relieved the toilsome scramble through 
the chaparral. At sunrise we were ordered to move forward. 
We had not proceeded far before the roll of musketry in front 
told that the work of death had begun. Then came the pecul- 
iar sharp ringing report of the twelve pound Parrotts, and soon 
another and another, each greeted by a yell of defiance by our 
eager and thoroughly aroused men. Ascending a little slope 
we encountered General Beauregard and his staff. The 
general had a magnificent coach and four — a la Napoleon — 
drawn out on the hillside. 

Captain Dewberry was a good fighter, but he had supreme 
contempt for the finesse drill; and their obstruction, stretch- 
ing the full front of his company, filled him with perplexity. 
Had it been a four-gun battery confronting him and his yellow 
jackets, he would have been at no loss for action, but that 
gaudy coach, with its caparisoned team, fianked too by the 
general and his staff in all the glory of gold lace and 
feathers, was more than his "tactics" had ever provided for. 
Without knowing how to fiank it he marched his company 
squarely against it, when perforce the men halted and looked 
around in confusion. The regiment was aligning upon the 
colors, and of course the sudden halt of Co. C, confused the 
entire line. "Move forward. Captain Dewberry," thundered 
Colonel Blythe, mortified at the ignoble confusion of his line 
under the very eyes of General Beauregard. But how was 
Captain Dewberry to move forward with that formidable ob- 
struction before him? At length, he turned to one of the tinsel- 
bedecked aide-de-camps and roared out: "Take that damned 
old stage out o' the way or I'll tumble it down the hill." 

The battle in front had become general. All along that fear- 
ful three mile line the rattle of musketry and the roar of artil- 
lery was deafening the air. Soon the ambulances, toiling 
under their loads of wounded and dying, came groaning by, 
and with them straggling soldiers telling horrible tales of 
bloody work, "just over the hill." One little hero, a mere 



CAMP AND FIELD. 59 

child, — who ought in decency to have been with his mother, — 
who belonged to Co. D, IGth Miss., came up and reported his 
regiment cut up, and requested permission to fall in with us. 
He was given a place in the line, and throughout that bloody 
day the little fellow fought like a man. 

We had now reached a point opposite the Iowa camps, di- 
rectly in front of the enemy's right center. Before us lay an 
almost impenetrable thicket of brambles and briers. Having 
cleared a "jungle'' we crossed at a double-quick the little field 
beyond, when, rising to the crest of a sharp hill, we were 
brought face to face with the battle. 

Never shall I forget the grandeur of that sight. The enemy's 
camps lay before us, spreading far and wide, dotting the well 
cleared slope. McClernand's division was in our front. Dark 
masses of men clothed in blue were moving in soldierly pre- 
cision before us; some wheeling into line, others deploying, and 
others recumbent on the ground, awaiting in tiger-like stillness 
our approach, to hurl death in our faces; the deafening roar of 
the guns; the unearthly shriek of the shells; the rattle of mus- 
ketry; the venomous "pringe" of the bullet, all conspired to 
make it a scene the grandest ever mortal eye beheld. 

Then came the order, thrilling every heart — " By the left of 
companies, forward into line; double quick, march." No order 
was ever more handsomely executed. Each company filed into 
line as deliberately as if that long line of sullen blue that lay 
scarcely three hundred yards in front was a line of friends in- 
stead of foes. Co. A, Captain Sharp, had scarcely attained posi- 
tion before the enemy opened fire; like a simoom's breath, it 
hissed through our ranks; our line moved forward until, within 
one hundred paces of the line of blue, and then we were lost in 
the blaze, the thunder, and frenzy of battle. 

The entire day was one of repeated and hard-earned triumph. 
After each fierce shock the Federal lines were formed, only to 
be broken and hurled back again. It was a fearful carnage, 
and none but heroes could have formed and reformed as the 
Federals did that day. A foeman, less worthy, would have 
been swept from the field by the first triumphant onslaught. 
By noon we had driven McClernand from his tents, and by 3 
p. M, the entire Federal force was broken. 

A ball struck and pierced the calf of General Johnston's left 
leg. Undisturbed by a flesh wound he continued to give 



60 CAMP AND FIELD. 

orders to his staff. Soon, however, the profuse hemorrhage 
attracted the attention of his friends, when it was discovered — 
too late — that an artery had been cut. 

But, glorious as was that Sunday of battle, its honors were 
bought at a fearful price. Co. I carried into the battle thirty 
men — of these six were killed and seventeen wounded. The bal- 
ance of the regiment suffered in proportion. Our gallant Colonel 
Blythe was killed and Lieutenant-Colonel Herron mortally 
wounded; Captains Humphries and Dewberry — brave old 
Dewberry! — Lieutenant McEachim, Lieutenant Hall, and Lieu- 
tenant Allen, with eighty men, were killed, and 120 were 
wounded out of an effective force of 330 rank and file. A mus- 
ket ball through the right knee tripped me up as the enemy's 
line was broken. A captured gun, one of Burrows's 14th Ohio 
Battery, served as an excellent ambulance, and thrown astride 
its grimy back I rode out of that terrible fight as proudly as ever 
rode a Roman conqueror of old. 

That night our army lay upon the field. So complete did 
they consider the victory that but little thought was given to 
the morrow. The night was given to plundering, and richly 
were those camps furnished. Such a lavish abundance of good 
things had never been spread before unrestrained hands. 

At length the morning came, not as the morning before, but 
dark, gloomy, and chill. The sun of Austerlitz had set; it was 
the sun of Waterloo struggling through the gloomy mist of the 
morn. The clouds hung dark with threatening rain. The very 
air seemed weighted with gloomy forebodings. It was nearly 
nine o'clock before the roll of musketry and the roar of artillery 
was heard. And when it did come it had not that animated 
ring which characterized the struggle of the day before. Our 
troops, demoralized by the night's revel, were hastily thrown to- 
gether in mixed commands. All day I lay upon my back, unable 
to move a single muscle without a painful effort, and listened to 
that sham of a battle. At length about three o'clock in the 
afternoon the firing ceased. Then a courier came and ordered 
the provost guard to move off with the prisoners. Soon an- 
other came ordering all the wounded who could walk or be 
removed to leave, as the army was about to retreat to Corinth. 



The last battle fought by the 2d 1 battle of Boydtown Plank Road, Octo- 
Corps, under General Hancock, was the | ber 27, 1864. 



Running Forts Jackson and St. Phillip. 



APKIt, 34, 1863. 



The Enemy's Blazing Fire-Raft Matched by Farragut 




GEN. B. Jb\ BVTLER. 



[j\j the spring of 'G3, one tropical night, so calm 
and still that a low mist hung clingingly to 
the shores and across the wide rolling waters 
of the Mississippi, in two divisions up and 
down the stream lay the Federal fleet; the flag- 
ship Hartford, two miles below Fort Jackson, 
a casemated work, armed also with guns en 
barbette. Sheltered by the edge of the forest 
which grew down into the water, lay twenty-one schooners, 
each having a thirteen inch mortar on her deck, which for 
nearly eight days had been throwing a shell at the fort every 
twenty minutes. 

The second division of the fleet, under command of Cap- 
tain Bailey, lay parallel to Farragut's division, nearer the 
left bank of the river on which was Fort St. Phillip, a strong but 
not a casemated work. Both these forts were fully armed with 
eight and ten inch Columbiads and six inch rifles, the heaviest 
ordnance then known. The only sailing ship, the sloop of war 
Portsmouth, had been towed into position in the early nightfall 
and moored where her batteries could command the water 
battery of Fort Jackson. 

Every preparation had been made for silencing the enemy^s 
guns as the fleet passed the forts. The port guns of the first 
division were loaded with grape and canister and their muzzles 
depressed so as to reach the embrasures of the casemates of the 
fort, which lie just above the water which flows by its base. 
The guns on the right side of that division were left unloaded 
because Bailey's division would be between them and Fort St. 



62 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Phillip. In his division the reverse was done; the right guns 
were loaded with grape and canister, and the left guns, next 
Farragut's division, were unloaded to prevent accident. 

Between the fleet and the forts lay the remains of the enor- 
mous chains floated on schooners which had been anchored 
across the river forming, as the commanders of the forts 
thought, an impassable barrier to navigation. By a daring 
reconnoissance this chain had been cut and the cables of the 
schooners slipped, so that the chains on both sides were floated 
down parallel to the line of the shore, and instead of an obstruc- 
tion, the chains became a guide to the channel on either hand. 

It is now two o'clock in the morning. The mortars for hours 
had ceased their play. The forts are silent. Nothing is seen 
buu the lights of the fleet. A red light goes to the truck of the 
top gallant mizzen-mast of the Hartford, the signal to make 
sail. The clanking of windlasses only are heard to the music 
of the boatswain's whistle. In almost the time in which it can 
be told, the two divisions of the fleet were steadily steaming up 
the river against a four-knot current at a speed of eight knots. 
The minutes seemed almost hours before a single gun flashing 
from Fort Jackson showed that the movement was known. 
Twenty mortars burst forth together, sending their heavy shells 
flying through the air in parabolas of nearly two miles, light- 
ing up the heavens with their blazing fuses, which began to 
rain down in broken fragments upon the fort. At the same 
moment the Portsmouth opened upon Fort Jackson with her 
starboard battery, keeping up a rapid and continuous fire until 
the last vessel had passed. 

Fort St. Phillip opened fire upon Bailey's division, followed by 
all the guns of Fort Jackson opening fire upon Farragut's divi- 
sion, which he boldly steers within three hundred yards of its 
walls; and as each ship came within short range, the guns were 
served with the utmost quickness of fire, so that the booming 
cannon made one continuous deafening roar; the rolling smoke 
in the misty night wrapped everything in darkness impenetra- 
ble, save as the flashes flamed out like lightnings from a low- 
hanging summer cloud. Eleven shells from the mortar-boats 
were seen flying high in the air, at one time, thence rolling 
down a stream of fire and shot upon the ill-fated cannoneers of 
the fort. Bravely they stand to and serve their guns amid 
death-shot falling thick and fast on every hand. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 63 

Under the fire of Bailey's division, that of Fort St. Phillip has 
been nearly silenced, and his division was passing her guns in 
safety. Protected by casemates, the gunners of Fort Jackson 
did not give Farragut's division so easy success. The fire of 
Fort Jackson is incessantly kept up w^ith precision, so that it 
seemed impossible that the Hartford, a wooden ship, could 
live while passing through that volcano of fire. 

Seel The heavens light up with something different from the 
flashing red of artillery. A new danger threatens the daring 
F'arragut. A fire-raft comes sweeping along the current at 
four miles an hour. What is a fire-raft? A flatboat some two 
hundred feet long by sixty wide, filled high with cotton picked 
open, saturated with rosin, pitch, and turpentine, intermingled 
so as to burn the more hotly, and interlaced with cross-piled 
sticks of light wood, all ablaze, fiercely burning, fanned by 
the light wind. Such a fire-raft is sent broadside upon the 
Hartford, so well directed that it engages her bows and the hot 
flames set flre to her fore-rigging and are burning the foremost 
sails of the flag-ship. This new enemy is met; and while the 
crew of the port guns ply their batteries upon the foe, the rest 
of the men, organized as a fire-brigade, fight the fire on the blaz- 
ing spars of their ship. Boats are lowered and manned, grap- 
nels thrown on board the burning raft, which is towed away to 
float harmlessly down the river, as the Hartford passes up be- 
yond the range of fire of the forts. Two of the Federal gun- 
boats only of the whole fleet came drifting down disabled, 
which told those below that the others had passed the forts in 
safety. 

Hardly had the fire been extinguished when a new peril met 
the Federal fleet. The iron-clad ram Manassas came tearing 
down from above, forced by current and steam, upon the fleet. 
She is nearest the steamer Mississippi, for whose side she is mak- 
ing with her fearful prow. The Yankee commander, Melanc- 
thon Smith, was equal to the occasion. He calls out: "Flag 
officer, I can ram as well as she; shall I ram her?" "Go for 
her," is the answer, and the stem of the Mississippi struck the 
iron-clad under the full momentum given by her powerful 
screw; the ram is disabled, and a few shot crash through her 
armor and set her on fire and she drifts down a useless hulk. 

But this is but an episode, for there is a fleet of the enemy's 
gunboats quite equal in number although not the equal in 



64 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



strength of the Federal force, lying in wait above the forts to 
renew the conflict. The fight is of short duration. Thirteen 
of the enemy's vessels were sunk or disabled, and the others 
fled up the river to New Orleans. 

The morning wind sprang up and rolled away the smoke, 
and as the sun rose up in the heavens the fleet was seen lying 
at anchor above the forts with flags of rejoicing flying from 
every mast-head. 



<s/B^ 




^^ass 



ORIGIN OF THE CONFEDERATE BATTLE-FLAG. 



By GENERAL JOE JOHNSTON. 



?T the battle of Bull Run the 
stars and bars proved a failure 
because they were so much like 
the Union colors. Indeed, both 
armies mistook their enemies for 
friends, and vice versa. After 
the battle I had resolved to dis- 
card this flag, and called for each 

{•egiment to procure its state colors. 

This they were not able . to do, and I 




►S 



asked the army for new designs. Among 
those presented one by General Beaure- 
gard was chosen, and I altered this 
only in making it square instead of ob- 
long. This flag was afterward adopted 
by the Confederate armies. It was a 
Greek cross of blue on a red field, 
with white stars on the blue bars, and 
was designed by Colonel Walton of 
Louisiana. 



'i^ 



MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM. 



PICKET LINE EXCHANGES. 




N officer of the Union army re- 
lates that on one occasion after 
a charge upon the enemy's 
works, a fierce encounter, and a 
fall back for re-enforcement, a 
I bright young Irish soldier was 

'I, found to have a rebel flag capt- 

ured from the foe. Approaching him he 
said : " I'll send that to the rear as one 
of our trophies ; give me the . flag." 
" Sure, I'll not give it ye," said Pat ; 
"if ye are wanting one, there's plinty 
av 'em behind that ridge over beyant, 
where I got this. Sure ye can go and 
get one for yerself." 




,HAT regiment do you belong 
^1 to ? " asked a Union picket of 
a rebel picket. " The 14th 
North Carolina," answered the 
Johnny. " And yours, Yank ? " " The 
114th Rhode Island." . " You're a liar, 
there isn't that many people in the 
State," returned the Johnny. 



SAVED THE ARMY. 



It was General George H. Thomas 
who saved the Army of the Cumber- 
land at the battle of Chickamauga. 



CAMF AND FIKLD. 



65 



GENERAL CUSTER'S FAREWELL ORDER. 



Headquarters 3d Cavalry Division, 
Appomattox Court House, Va., April 9, 1865. 
Soldiers of the 3d Cavalrrj Division : 
/^^^s ^ AITH profound gratitude to- 
^^Jf^XY) ward the God of Battles, 
/VSTqJ'^ by whose blessings our 



enemies have been humbled 
and our arms rendered triumpliant, 
your commanding general avails him- 
self of this, his first opportunity, to ex- 
press to you his admiration of the 
heroic manner in which you have passed 
through the series of battles which to- 
day resulted in the surrender of the 
enemy's entire army. 

The record established by your in- 
domitable courage is unparalleled in the 
annals of war. Your prowess has won 
for you even the respect and admira- 
tion of your enemies. During the past 
six months, although in most instances 
confronted by superior numbers, you 
have captured from the enemy, in open 
battle, one hundred and eleven pieces of 
field artillei*y, sixty-five battle-flags, and 
upwards of ten thousand prisoners of 
war, including seven general officers. 
Within the past ten days, and included 
in the above, you have captured forty- 
six pieces of field artillery, and thirty- 
seven battle-flags. You have never lost 
a gun, never lost a color, and have 
never been defeated ; and notwithstand- 
ing the numerous engagements in which 
you have borne a prominent part, in- 
cluding those memorable battles of the 
Shenandoah, you have captured every 
piece of artillery which the enemy has 
dared to open upon you. The near ap- 



proach of peace renders it improbable 
that you will again be called upon to 
undergo the fatigues of the toilsome 
march or the exposure of the battle 
field ; but should the assistance of keen 
blades, wielded by your steady arms, 
be required to hasten the coming of 
that glorious peace for which we have 
been so long contending, the general 
commanding is proudly confident that, 
in the future as in the past, every de- 
mand will meet with a hearty and will- 
ing response. 

Let us hope that our work is done, 
and that, blessed with the comforts of 
peace, we may be permitted to enjoy 
the pleasures of home and friends. 
For our comrades who have fallen, let 
us cherish grateful remembrance ; to 
the wounded, and to those who lan- 
guished in Southern j^risons, let our 
heartfelt sympathy be tendered. 

And now, speaking for myself alone, 
when the war is ended and the task of 
the historian begins — when those deeds 
of daring which have rendered the 
name and fame of the 3d Cavalry Divi- 
sion imperishable ai'e inscribed upon 
the bright pages of our country's his- 
tory, I only ask that my name may be 
written as that of the commander of 
the 3d Cavalry Division. 

G. A. Custer, 
Brevet Major-General Commanding. 

Official : L. W. Barnhart, Captain 
and A. A. A. G. 




Peace Proposition. — The boldest and most significant peace proposi- 
tions that appeared up to November. 1864. were offered in the Rebel 
Congress by Mr. Leach, of N. C. 



66 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



nENDINS THE OLD FLAG. 



WILL CARLETON. 



fN the silent gloom of a garret room, 
With cobwebs round it creeping, 
From day to day the old flag lay — 
A veteran worn and sleeping. 
Dingily old, each wrinkled fold 

By the dust of years was shaded ; 
Wounds of the storm were upon its 
form ; 
The crimson stripes were faded. 

'Twas a mournful sight in the day twi- 
light. 
This thing of humble seeming, 
That once so proud o'er the cheering 
crowd, 
Had carried its colors gleaming ; 
Stained with mold were the braids of 
gold 
That had flashed in the sun's rays' 
kissing ; 
Of faded hue was its field of blue. 
And some of the stars were missing. 

Three Northern maids and three from 
glades 
Where dreams the southland weather. 
With glances kind and their arms en- 
twined, 
Came up the stairs together. 



They gazed awhile with a thoughtful 
smile 
At the crouching form before them ; 
With clinging hold they grasped its 
folds. 
And out of the darkness bore them. 

They healed its scars, they found its 
stars. 
And brought them all together, 
(Three Northern maids and three from 
glades 
Where smiles the southland weather ;) 
They mended away through the sum- 
mer day. 
Made glad by an inspiration 
To fling it high at the summer sky 
On the birthday of our Nation. 

In the Drilliant glare of the summer air, 

With a brisk breeze round it creeping, 
Newly bright through the glistening 
light, 

The flag went gladly sweeping ; 
Gleaming and bold were its braids of 
gold 

And flashed in the sun's rays' kissing; 
Red, white, and blue were of deepest hue. 

And none of the stars were missing. 



MINE EXPLOSION. 



CAVALRY FIGHT. 



General John W. Turner is 
said to have been the only divi- 
sion commander who led his 
men on the day of the mine ex- 
plosion, or Battle of the Crater, 
July 30, 1864. 




The most important cavalry 
fight of the war, says the Con- 
federate Colonel Ball, of the lltli 
Virginia Regiment, was at Tervillau, 
where General Rosser's dash saved th« 
day. 



RKCOLLKCTIONS 

OF 

SEPT. 19, 1864. 



A LIVELY FIGHT IN WHICH HUNDREDS OF BRAVE MEN FELL. 



Inspiring Charge of Fire Magnificent Brigades. 

(BY ONE WHO WAS THERE.) 




ilST the morning of September 19, 1864, the Michigan 
Cavalry Brigade, commanded by General Custer, con- 
sisting of the 1st, 5th, 6th, and 7th Mich, Regts. and the 
25th N. Y., was aroused from slumber at two o'clock, 
near Summit Point, Va. " Boots and saddles " had 
been sounded and soon active preparations were 
made to break camp. Horses were fed and sad- 
dled, a hasty meal partaken of, and in about half 
an hour the brigade was waiting for the word 
"forward," 

Soon the headquarters tent comes down, the gene- 
ral and staff mount, the bugler sounds "forward," 
and the brigade is again on the tramp. Away we 
go, across the country, through cornfields, into a 
patch of woods, another field, another patch of 
woods, up blind roads, a sudden turn to the right, 
across a large clearing, and entering a compara- 
tively open piece of woodland. 

We are now in the vicinity of the Opequan and it is not yet 
daylight. The brigade is massed in a piece of woods and is 
awaiting orders from the division commander. After a short 
time we move forward about a mile and a half and are again 




68 CAMP AND FIELD. 

massed in a belt of woods and in rear of a range of hills over- 
looking the Opequan. 

Presently we hear the crack! crack! of the Spencers, and a 
cavalryman comes in wounded in the arm. ''Sharpshooters," 
he says, as he passes us. Soon other wounded men begin to 
come in and we know that there has been warm work in 
front. 

We are about half a mile from Burns' ford, on the Opequan. 
Beyond is an open field, and beyond that runs the creek, and 
rising from its brink on the south side is a high bluff lined with 
rifle-pits, filled with sharpshooters. On the left of the field 
runs a road leading to the ford, and on the left of the road a 
railroad embankment twenty feet high. Custer has ordered 
two regiments to charge over and dislodge the enemy. Down 
to the ford they move steadily, supported by a regiment which 
has been dismounted in the open field. But they do not suc- 
ceed. A terrible fire from the sharpshooters on the bluff 
opposite greets them, and they are forced to return. They are 
repulsed, but not defeated. As quickly as possible the brigade 
is re-formed, and while the attention of the enemy is engaged 
by a regiment of dismounted men, the 1st Mich. Cavalry Regt. 
is given the task to accomplish what two regiments had failed 
to do. 

"Follow that regiment, and when you see me wave my 
sword give 'em some music," is the order. Forward! By some 
blunder the band gets sandwiched in between two squadrons, 
and can't get out. 

"What are you blowers doing here?" says an officer. "No 
place for you. Custer ought to — " 

The sentence is not finished, for a shower of bullets sing 
through the air. A yell from the 6th Mich, on the right, and 
we look up and see the general waving his sword as they 
charged across the open field. We play a national air and 
make a break for a large opening in the railroad embankment, 
where we valiantly remained until the firing has ceased. 

In the mean time the 1st Mich, has crossed the creek, 
swarmed up the bluff, and the rifle-pits are ours, with a consid- 
erable number of prisoners. 

The entire command crosses the creek and takes the position 
just vacated by the enemy, who has retreated about a mile in 
the direction of Winchester and taken position behind earth- 



CAMP AND FIELD, 69 

works. A splendid charge from the Michigan men dislodges 
them, and forward we go. 

Then we advance and meet with no opposition until within 
two miles of Stevenson's depot when we run against a division 
of Confederate cavalry. In a moment the whole Michigan 
brigade makes a gallant charge right into them, and still again 
and although greatly outnumbering us, the fierceness of our 
onslaught dismays them. 

Looking to the left an inspiring scene meets the eye. Five 
brigades are moving forward in parallel lines, their bright 
sabers glistening in the sun, the bands playing, and the national 
colors and battle flags flying in the breeze. Ahead of us the 
enemy's cavalry have formed across the pike, about three miles 
from Winchester. We could also see the battle raging be- 
tween the lines of opposing infantry on the left. 

The rebel cavalry skirmishers now advance and drive in our 
own. A gallant charge by the Michigan men forces them back, 
and the short struggle is ended by the retreat of the enemy. 
About a mile further on they again rally. Custer sounds the 
charge and away goes the brigade again, and again the 
enemy's cavalry is driven and takes refuge behind his line of 
infantry. 

Now the Confederates make their last stand. We are near 
enough for them to use their batteries, a circumstance which 
they are not slow to improve. But the Confederate line is 
wavering and Custer knows it. Watching closely he sees the 
enemy about to make a retrograde movement, and instantly 
grasping the situation he ordered a charge by the whole 
brigade. Away they go with a rush and a yell, using the saber 
almost exclusively. The fierce rush was too much for the but- 
ternut men, and they melt and vanish before it. A gallant 
charge, brave Michigan men! Push on I 

But see, right in front springs up a fresh line of the foe! 
Stand firm! Now, charge again! And again this new obstacle 
melts away, and many prisoners are ours. 

Over to the right stands a little log house which shelters a 
host of the enemy. They are very annoying. They must be 
dislodged. Some Michigan troopers do the work, and they do it 
thoroughly. A sudden rush of horses, yelling men with gleam- 
ing sabers, and the thing is done. A Confederate regiment 
throw down their arms and are prisoners. 



70 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



But see the gallant Custer! He is in the midst of a throng of 
the enemy, slashing right and left. A Confederate infantry- 
man presents his musket full at Custer's heart and is about to 
pull the trigger. Quick as lightning the general detects the 
movement. With a sharp pull he causes his horse to rear upon 
its haunches, and the ball passes, just grazing the general's leg 
below the thigh. Then a terrible sword stroke descends upon the 
infantryman's head, and he sinks to the ground a lifeless corpse. 

Now our boys are ready for more work. Another charge, the 
enemy falter, the lines waver, they break and run. Push for- 
ward, gallant men! Keep them going! And they do. 

Suddenly the artillery on Bunker Hill withholds its fire, the 
reports of small arms from the enemy cease, the smoke of battle 
clears away and we see that the hill is evacuated, the enemy 
in full retreat. Forward! forward! and away go our Michigan 
boys in hot pursuit. They have got them on the run. They fill 
the streets of Winchester, and the Wolverines are at their heels. 
On! on! through the town and miles beyond the surging mass 
is driven and the victory is won. 



THE BLUE AND THE GRAY. 



fHAD two brothers once, 
Warm-hearted, bold, and gay, 
They left my side — one wore the 
blue, 
The other wore the gray. 

One rode with Stonewall and his men, 
And joined his fate to Lee ; 

The other followed Sherman's march 
Triumphant to the sea. 

Both fought for what they deemed the 
right, 

And died with sword in hand ; 
One sleeps amid Vii-ginia's hills, 

And one in Georgia's sand. 

The same sun shines upon their graves. 
My love for them must stay ; 

And so upon my bosom lies 
This knot of blue and gray. 



MARCH TO THE BATTLE FIELD. 

By Geo. II. Williams, Co. H., Fifth Iowa Cavalry. 

INARCH to the battle field, 
; IvV' The foe is now before us ; 
^ Each heart is freedom's shield, 
And freedom's flag is o'er us. 
No link remains of galling chains 
That once our land degraded ; 
Our flag yet flies. 
In starry guise. 
With not one glory faded. 

Who from his country's cause 

Would ever shrink or falter? 
Who fears to guard her laws. 
Or die before her altar ? 

If one there be, 

Whose servile knee 
Would crouch to freedom's foeman, 

May sudden doom 

His life consume. 
And heaven avert the omen. 

Written just before the battle of Nashville. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 71 

MEMDRIES DF THE WAR. 

By KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD. 



% 



IHENEVER I hear the fife and 
the drum, 
And the bugle wildly play, 
My heart is stirred like a frightened 
bird. 
And struggles to break away ; 
For the tramp of the volunteers I hear, 

And the captain's sharp command, 
" Left ! Left ! Left ! " He is near. 
And drilling his eager band. 

For the women and men were as one 
that day 

In a purpose grand and great ; 
But the men are away in a stormy fray. 

And the women must watch and wait. 

And some were as brown as the tawny 
South, 
And some like the dawn were fair ; 
And here was the lad with his girlish 
mouth. 
And there was the beard of care. 
But whether from farm or fold they 
drew, 
From the shop or the school boy's 
seat, 
Eaoh shouldered his musket and donned 
the blue, 
And the time with his brogans beat. 

And the mother put motherly fears to 
flight. 
And the wife hid her tears away ; 
For men must fight while their cause is 
right. 
While the women in patience pray. 

And now 'tis the discipline hard and 
sore, 
Of the camp, and the march, and the 
chase, 



And now 'tis the flash, and the crash, 
and the roar, 
As the battle creeps on apace. 
O, God ! it is hard when a comrade falls, 

With his head at your very feet. 
While " Forward ! " the voice of your 
captain calls. 
And the enemy beats retreat. 

And O, for the mother or wife who 
must see, 
When the news of the battle is 
known, 
" Killed, Private C, of Company G," 
While she sits in her grief like a stone. 

Here, the pitiless siege, and the hunger 
that mocks ; 
There, the hell of Resaca waits ; 
And the crash of the shells on the Geor- 
gia rocks, 
As you beat on Atlanta's gates. 
There are dreams of a peace that is slow 
to dawn, 
Of the furloughs that never come ; 
There are tidings of grief from a letter 
drawn. 
And the silence of lips grown dumb. 

The words of your messmate you write 
from the crag 
Where he breathed his life away : 
" Oh say to my darling I died for the flag 
She blessed when we marched that 
day." 

There are chevroned sleeves for some 
who may go. 
And a captain's straps. for a few. 
And the scars of the hero that some may 
show. 
When is sounded the last tattoo ; 



72 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



But the uiiturned face on the enemy's 
side, 
With its cold and ghastly stare, 
Is all that is left of the pomp and the 
pride 
Of some who the conflict share. 

And lo, when the enemy lifts the dead. 

And rifles his breast, I ween 
There's a woman's face and the dainty 
grace 
Of the babe he never has seen ; 
And O for the famine, and O for the 
woe, 
Of the comrades in prison pen ! 
For the hunger and thirst, and the 
fever slow, 
And the torturing, homesick sense ! 

And O for the phantoms that walk by 
night. 
And the phantoms that walk by day ! 
And the whirl of the brain in the hope- 
less fight, 
With the demons that gloat and prey ! 



And O for the scenes that they loved so 
well, 
That haunted their dying day — 
For a draught from the well that will 
never swell, 
And a bi-eath of the new-mown hay ! 
Ah, well, there are few who are left, we 
know, 
Of the many who marched away ; 
And the children who clung to our 
skirts, I trow. 
Are as tall and as strong as they. 

There are unmarked graves in the lonely 
South, 
There are specters that walk at will ; 
But the flag that you saved at the can- 
non's inouth 
Is the flag that is over you still ; 
The flag thro' the shot and the shell that 
you bore. 
And wrapped in your blouses blue, 
The flag that you swore to defend ever- 
more. 
Is the flag of the Union, too. 




A FLAG WITH A HISTORY. 



NDREW ROBERTS, of East 
Hartford, Conn., is in possession 
of a flag that has an eventful 
history. It was flung to the breeze for 
the first time when the tidings of the 
election of Abraham Lincoln flashed 
through the country. It was next 
raised to welcome the arrival of the 6th 
Mass. Vols, in Washington, after their 
bloody passage through Baltimore. 
From that time on it was raised at the 



tidings of every Union victory until the 
close of the war. It greeted the second 
election of Lincoln, and hung heavily 
draped in crape from the day of his 
assassination until his burial. Since 
the war it has been raised at every 
Republican success in the country. It 
was presented to Mr. Roberts by his 
brother, the late J. II. Roberts, foreman 
of the government bindery at Wash- 
ington. 



The 33d Neiar Tork, 

AND ^ ITS ^^ GALLANT -^^v BEHAVIOR ^^T ^^ THE * BATTLE* OF ^^WILLIAMSBURG. 
A Brave Charge. 

MAY 5. 1862. 
BENJ. MEPHAM, Corp. Co. B, 83d N. Y. S. V. I. 





FTER crossing King's Creek on a high 
dam, the three left companies were or- 
dered forward and took possession of the 
first fort. General Hancock continued to 
move forward, and having advanced half 
a mile to the left, halted a short distance 
from the enemy, near by an abandoned 
redoubt. Lieutenant-Colonel Corning was there ordered to 
take the three right companies and regimental colors and color- 
guard, and occupy and hold the fort. A few moments later 
Colonel Taylor proceeded with the other four companies to a 
body of woods, to the right and front, and deployed as skirmish- 
ers. Wheeler's and Cowan's batteries moved forward five 
hundred yards, directly in front of the redoubt, and com- 
menced shelling Fort Magruder; they were supported by the 
5th Wis. Regt., whose skirmishers connected with the 33d N. Y. 
on the right, and the Gth Me. and the 49th Penn. on the left. 
From the redoubt, occupied by Co.'s A, D, and F, the ground 
descended slightly for a few rods and then became a level 
plain, extending to Fort Magruder and presenting but few ob- 
stacles to the advance of infantry. Our artillery kept up a 
vigorous fire until two o'clock in the afternoon, and then ceased 
in accordance with orders from General McClellan, who had 
arrived on the opposite side of the creek. No other troops had 



74 CAMP AND FIELD. 

offered to re-enforce Hancock, and he held his position on the 
enemy's left all day with the small force designated. Night 
was now approaching, and the men began to consider what 
further dispositions would be made of them when, suddenly, 
the rebels were discovered approaching from the direction of 
Williamsburg, and rapidly formed two lines of battle, which 
extended entirely across the plain in front. With their over- 
whelming numbers they expected to press down our small force 
and capture it entire, or drive it pell mell into the creek. Gen- 
eral Hancock immediately sent word to the batteries and 
infantry supports to fall back, which they did, engaging the 
enemy as they retired. The three companies of the ood were 
ordered out of the redoubt into line of battle, but the color- 
sergeant and guard remained to defend and keep unfurled the 
banner. The 7th Me. was likewise posted in line of battle at 
the right. On came the swarthy rebels, shouting "Bull Run," 
and "Ball's Bluff," their lines firm and unbroken; while the 
5th Wis., 6th Me., and 49th Penn. hastily fell back, forming 
on the left of the 33d. 

Shot and shell fell all around the redoubt. It was a most 
trying situation. The foe was steadily bearing down and no 
re-enforcements could cross the narrow dam in time to render 
assistance. Still the men faltered not, but nerved themselves 
for the shock, determined that the enemy should bite the 
dust ere they would surrender. As the rebels drew nearer, the 
men fired rapidly, but failed to make any impression on their 
lines, which swept over the plain in perfect order. They had 
now arrived within seventy yards of the redoubt, and our lieu- 
tenant — Brown — and many other brave fellows had fallen. 
The cannoneers, with their guns, and many members of other 
regiments, were hurrying back to the dam to escape, both the 
right and left of the line were wavering, and it seemed as if all 
was lost. At this critical juncture, the lieutenant-colonel, 
turning to Colonel Taylor, who had just arrived from the skir- 
mish line, remarked: "Nothing but a charge can check them." 
"A charge it shall be," he replied, and instantly waving his 
sword in the air, shouted: "Forward, men!" "Charge bay- 
onets," added Lieutenant-Colonel Coming, and the brave men 
sprang forward on the double-quick, and were soon lost in the 
smoke which enveloped the plain. Incited by this gallant ex- 
ample of the 33d, other regiments followed, and, alarmed ai 



CAMP AND FIELD. 75 

this sudden counter-charge, the enemy broke and ran in con- 
fusion. In vain the commanding officer tried to rally them. 
They had started on the retreat, and would not rally. When 
the 33d was close upon tliem it discharged volleys into their re- 
treating lines. The other regiments joined us, and for several 
moments a murderous fire was poured upon the enemy, who 
never stopped till they reached their entrenchments. Some 
tumbled on their backs and feigned death, while others ran to- 
wards us with uplifted hands, imploring us to spare their lives. 
More than two hundred lay dead and wounded on the field, 
among them the lieutenant-colonel and major of the 24:th Va., 
and a captain on Magruder's staff. It was a most daring and 
brilliant exploit, deciding the fortunes of the day and turning 
what was to this time a defeat on the left into a substantial 
victory. Thus terminated the battle of Williamsburg. The 33d 
captured alone one hundred and fifty prisoners, and won the 
plaudits of the whole army for its gallant charge. 

On the evening of May 7, General McClellan rode into camp 
on his bay charger. The 33d being drawn up in line, he ad- 
dressed us as follows: " Officers and men of the 33d, I have 
come to thank you in person for your gallant conduct on the 
field of battle on the 5th inst. I will say to you what I have 
said to other regiments engaged with you; all did well — did all 
I could expect, — but you did more. You behaved like veterans 
— you are veterans. Veterans of a hundred battles could not 
have done better. Those on your left fought well; but you 
won the day. You were at the right point, did the right thing, 
and at the right time. You shall have Williamsburg inscribed 
on your banner." 

As '' Little Mac" rode away, followed by his staff, cheer after 
cheer rent the air. 



A FIGHTING BATTERY. PRESS AND PEOPLE. 



Battery D, 1st New York •"f^SSI? Gen. Grant said in Nov., 1885 : "If the 

Artillery, participated in a a^^^^Wi,, same license had been allowed the people 



greater number of battles '^^ 'lijy^ and the press of the South that was al- 
to Nov., 1864, than any other battery in lowed in the North, Chattanooga would 
the 5th Corps. It took part in twenty- probablyhave been the last battle fought 
two engagements. for the preservation of the Union." 



LIFE IN THE TRENCHES. 

Twelve Hundred Dollars for a Barrel of Flour 
Slabs of Corn Bread. 






.UCH was the ominous 
condition of affairs that 

^J?> bright Sabbath morn- 

^^ ing in April, that when 
the devotions of Mr, Davis 
were hurriedly interrupted at 
St. Paul's in the doomed city 
of Richmond, its portent was 
quickly guessed and whispered 
from ear to ear, though the 
regular services were quietly 
conducted to the close. 

It was a message from the 
front sent by Lee, that he could 
no longer hold the lines, and Richmond must be given up to a 
now victorious army. That April day will never be forgotten. 
The end had at last come, and the terror-stricken congrega- 
tion sadly dispersed to prepare for the last drama of the war. 
Never was dire confusion worse confounded than when the 
above tidings spread through that city. A mad, uncontrolled 
mob completed the horrors by open incendiary acts, so that 
when the exulting captors reached their prize it was but to see 
it in flames. That night our men noiselessly and mechanically 
filed out from the Petersburg trenches, concealing the move- 
ment by a general firing from the many mortars placed along 
the thirty miles of works. These queer looking guns had often 
made night resplendent from the thousand balls that were 
thrown in artillery duels to conceal some move or to provoke 



CAMP AND FIELb. 77 

some little skirmish. Both parties were well provided with 
mortars — hundreds of them being distributed along the lines, 
or, as sometimes, concentrated in great numbers in one place. 
The trenches around Petersburg were scarcely a mile apart, 
and frequently they approached within a few hundred yards 
and were in plain sight of each other, unless the view was ob- 
structed by timber or undergrowth. Guns fired at an elevation 
of forty-five degrees appear as though aimed at the empty air, 
but they were terrifying and destructive to an army unpro- 
tected from the masses of iron thrown out from their huge 
mouths. We knew little of these engines of war until both 
armies settled down in front of Petersburg and began to batter 
and hammer at each other in regular siege style. At night it 
was grand to watch these fiery red shells, dart out from be- 
low the horizon as they began their flight. High and higher 
up they darted till, reaching their highest elevation, they be- 
gan their dip to the earth. Down they came whizzing and 
screaming, their path ablaze; faster and faster, till with a 
deep hollow thud, they buried themselves deep in the 
ground, throwing all around a shower of stones, pebbles, and 
earth. 

If they exploded in the air, a thousand scintillating lines of 
fire darted out for a moment and quickly all was dark again; 
but if the explosion was delayed until it had buried itself in 
the earth, a terrible upheaval followed, leaving a hole yards 
across, and men, arms, and all, involved in complete destruc- 
tion. There can be no more beautiful sight than these shells 
as they describe their eccentric fiights, passing and re-passing 
as they rush screaming through the heavens. They seemed 
like balls of red hot iron hurled by some irate demons! — giants 
of vengeance engaged in dire confiict. Sometimes these fiery 
monsters crashed against each other in their flight, and then 
myriads of bright streaming lines of meteors would dart in 
every direction. Beautiful as are these sights, they are too 
dangerous for sport. 

Mortar duels, strange to say, did comparatively less damage 
than the ordinary field cannon, especially at night. Then shells 
could be easily watched, and a little experience soon enabled 
the men to calculate with great accuracy the place where they 
would fall. As science and skill add destructive engines of 
warfare, the instinct of preservation and of defense invents 



78 CAMP AND FIELD. 

better and safer means of protection. It was but a short time 
before we found that good sound logs, covered with plenty of 
earth, constituted a safe and reliable protection against such 
visitors. Holes ten feet deep were dug, over which were placed 
layers of logs, and these in turn were freely covered with earth. 
The entrance was made in the side furthest from the enemy. 
These were the original and true bomb-proofs. When it was 
seen that a mortar shell would strike near by, the men would 
scamper into these subterranean vafults and safely await its ex- 
plosion. We have seen men await outside with no other pur- 
pose than to secure the fragments of the shell after its explo- 
sion. Those were hard times for poor Confederates in the 
trenches, and scrap iron would secure to them what Confeder- 
ate money had long since failed to do. Just think of paying 
$1,200 for a barrel of flour, $250 for a pair of shad, $150 for a 
day's stay at a hotel (you could not well term it board), and $3 
per drink for the vilest of whisky, and then to think of paying 
men $11 of this worthless stuff per month as wages! It may 
well be asked what did the rebels get to eat? No one save such 
a soldier and at such a time ever will know. 

For weeks at a time cold corn bread, prepared from unsound 
meal, was the best and only ration that was to be depended 
upon. Rarely was a piece of meat served. The preparation of 
corn bread was a novel one in the art of cooking. The great 
aim was to do the whole thing in bulk and with the least 
trouble possible. The meal was simply mixed with water, a 
little salt added and the dough baked in pans, say three feet 
long and half as wide. The long, brown colored cakes, looking 
much like clay colored flag-stones, were thrown into dirty 
box cars which had been used indiscriminately for the carrying 
of all kinds of supplies and also for the transportation of the 
dead and wounded of the army. Wagons equally unclean hauled 
these tremendous corn slabs to the men along the lines. By 
the time it reached them it was the filthiest of food, yet it was 
eaten to allay hunger. What must have been the determina- 
tion of such men? On such a diet had they been served for the 
ordeal awaiting them in the retreat to Appomattox. The route of 
that retreat was one long struggle for hopeless escape, each part 
of the way strewn with abandoned wagons, guns, and material 
of war, and each day signaled by the capture of thousands of 
prisoners. The wonder was the end had been so long delayed. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



79 



-^SHOT BY A COMRABE.^- 

HOW A DESPERATELY WOUNDED SOLDIER WAS PUT OUT OF MISERY. 




^ 



•iENRY J. SAVAGE of the 
Soldiers' Home at INIilwiiukee, 
Wis., tells the following thrill- 
ing story : — 
The writer, a member of Co. G, 1st 
Del. Infantry, was then attached to the 
3d Brigade (Weber's), 3d Division 
(French's), 2d Corps (Sumner's). Af- 
ter wading Antietam creek, plunging 
through ploughed fields, stubble fields, 
and corn fields, his regiment was finally 
located within plain view of the enemy, 
when the welcome command ran along 
the line to " load and fire at will." It 
was then that our daily target practice 
at Fortress Monroe came into excellent 
use, as many a poor fellow of the 6th 
Ala. learned to his cost. After 
going eleven rounds, the writer was 
wounded and ordered to the rear. 
While retreating in good order, but 
making most excellent time, his route 
led him through a portion of the Irish 
Brigade. Here he saw a sight that 
capped the climax of horror. A mem- 



ber of that brigade was aimlessly 
stumbling around with both eyes shot 
out, begging some one, " for the love of 
God," to put an end to his misery. A 
lieutenant of the 4th N". Y. was passing 
by, and seeing the poor fellow's condi- 
tion and hearing his appeal, he halted 
before him and asked him if he really 
meant what he said. 

" O, yes, comrade," was the reply, " I 
cainiot possibly live, and my agony is 
iinendurable." 

Without another word the officer 
drew his pistol, placed it to the victim's 
right ear, turned away his head, and 
pulled the trigger. A half wheel, a con- 
vulsive gasp, and one more unfortunate 
had passed over to the silent majority. 

" It was better thus," said the lieu- 
tenant, replacing his pistol and turning 
toward the writer, " for the j^oor fellow 
could — " 

Just then a solid shot took the lieu- 
tenant's head off, and the "subsequent 
proceedings interested him no more." 



OLD WAR IvETTKRS, 



jlJII^HILE repairing a house in Quit- 
man, Ga., in 1885, the workmen 

j,(. found between the ceilings and the 
J weather boai'ding about a bushel 
of old letters. They had apparently 
been mailed during 1860 and 1861, and 
were never sent away. The house had 
been used for a post-office in the early 
years of the war. and these letters, in 
some unaccountable manner, had slipped 
between the ceiling and outer wall as 
stated. Many of the letters were pei'- 
fectly preserved, while others were rat- 



eaten and soiled. Curiosity caused the 
seals of several of these ancient epistles 
to be opened. Many of them were 
fi'om girls to their sweethearts in the 
army ; some from mothers and fathers 
to their sons ; some from wives to their 
husbands ; and a few were business 
letters. None of these letters ever 
reached those for whom they were in- 
tended, and a majority of the persons, 
both writers and those to whom they 
were written, " have passed over the 
river." 



80 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



OENERAL ORANTT AND THE EICKETTS, 

(RELATED BY THE GENERAL IN HIS MEMOIRS.) 



FTER we had secured the open- 



Lc/I ^'^o ^^ ^ '"^*^ ^^'^^ which to bring 
^^^(3 our supplies to the army, I made 
^ a pei'sonal inspection to see the 
situation of the pickets of the two 
armies. As I have stated, Chattanooga 
creek comes down the center of the 
valley to within a mile of Chattanooga, 
then bears off westerly, then north- 
westerly, and enters the Tennessee river 
at the foot of Lookout mountain. This 
creek, from its mouth up to where it 
bears off west, lay between the two 
lines of pickets, and the guards of both 
armies drew their water from the same 
stream. As I would be under short- 
range fire and in an open country, I took 
nobody with me, except, I believe, a 
bugler, who staid some distance to the 
rear. I rode from our right around 
to our left. When I came to the camp 
of the picket guard of our side I heard 
the call, " Turn out the guard for 
the commanding general." I replied, 
" Never mind the guard," and they 
were dismissed and went back to their 
tents. Just back of these, and about 
equally distant from the creek, were 



the guards of the Confederate pickets. 
The sentinel on their post called out in 
like manner, " Turn out the guai'd for 
the commanding general," and, I be- 
lieve, added, " General Grant." Their 
line in a moment front-faced to the 
north, facing me, and gave a salute, 
which I returned. 

The most friendly relations seemed 
to exist between the pickets of the two 
arniies. At one place there was a tree 
which had fallen across the stream, and 
which was used by the soldiers of both 
armies in drawing water for their 
camps. General Longstreet's corps 
was stationed there at the time, and 
wore blue of a little different shade 
from our uniform. Seeing a soldier in 
blue on this log, I rode up to him, 
commenced conversing with him, and 
asked whose corps he belonged to. He 
was very polite, and, touching his hat 
to me, said he belonged to General 
Longstreet's corps. I asked him a few 
questions — ^but not with a view to 
gaining any particular information — 
all of which he answered, and I rode 
off. 



GENERAL TERRY ATvIONO HIS ERIENDS. 



^ 



§T was just after the surrender of 
Richmond, and General Terry was 

I in command of the city. A com- 
mittee of Hartford gentlemen were 
visiting the capital of the defunct con- 
federacy, and passed an evening at 
headquarters, which were in the noted 
Jeff Davis house. After the evening 
had been well spent, a party of half a 
dozen, who knew the general inti- 
mately, retired to one of the upper 
rooms, and General Terry, the mo- 
ment the door was closed and locked. 



threw off his coat, stripped off his 
collar, and in a burst of freedom, 
exclaimed : " There — I've been General 
Terry, all dignity and restraint, here in 
charge of this rebel city, but now, boys, 
I'm among friends I'm going to have 
some fun." He sang songs, and danced, 
and cut up like a boy just out of 
school. He seemed to enjoy the relief 
afforded by a respite from the long 
struggle in the field, and the arduous 
task in his hands ; but when he was a 
soldier he was a soldier all over. 




reRPEDo EXPiesieN. 

The Terrible Cost of Inexcusable Carelessness. 

By W. P. DERBY, 27th Mass. 



UNE 1, 1804, three torpedoes constructed from pork- 
barrels, containing 200 pounds of powder each were 
sent by cars to Bachelor's Creek, N. C, in charge of 
^ Lieutenant Jones of the 132d N. Y. Regt., to be placed 
<r^ in the Neuse River, as a protection against possible 
ironclads from Kinston. Desiring to communicate with Col- 
onel Classen of the l.'32d N. Y., in command at the creek, he 
left the torpedoes without informing any one as to what they 
were. The quartermaster-sergeant of the 132d N. Y. com- 
menced unloading the cars, and reaching the torpedoes he per- 
sonally took one to the gang-plank and rolled it to the platform 
supposing it to be a barrel of pork. His assistants took the 
other two and rolled them off. As the second torpedo struck 
the one upon the platform it broke the hair spring within, and 
the three torpedoes ex- ^^ ,, Kinston. Thirty were 
ploded with a concussion r;^^^<^ killed and seventeen 
which startled the enemy ^^^'^4<^' wounded of the 132d N. 
twenty miles distant at ^^*^fe?^ Y. ; a considerable num- 
ber also of the 158th N. Y., while so far as could be learned 
there were besides ten citizens killed and twenty-three wounded. 
A log depot 20 x 30. a railroad platform 100 feet long, and a 
signal tower ninety feet high were shivered to splinters. The 
remains of the victims were scattered in fragments in trees or 
upon the ground for upwards of half a mile. All that there 
was recognized of the quartermaster-sergeant was his little 
finger, known by his ring, A sight more pitiful or harrowing 
could not be imagined. The mangled and powder burned 
bodies of the living to the number of forty were gathered and 
their writhing forms taken to the New-Berne hospitals, while 
the remains of the dead were scraped together in infinitesimal 
bits and buried in hard-tack boxes. Such was the cost of a 
little inexcusable carelessness. 



Battle of Hanover Court-House, 

MAY 27, 1862. 

Hot Work of the 13th New York Volunteers. 

ENEMY'S WILD FXRING.-FEDERALS' VICTORY. 







>HEN the army reached White House Landing, 
on its way up the Peninsula, my regiment 
(the i:3th N. Y. Vols., of Martindale's brigade), 
4- with the 5th N. Y. (Duryea's), 1st Conn, heavy 

artillery (acting as infantry), Rush's Lancers (Gth Penn. 
cavalry), and Weeden's battery (Co. C. 1st R. I.), was 
formed into a provisional brigade, under command of Colonel 
(afterwards General) Warren. 

We marched to Old Church, on the Pamunkey, near which 
place we barely missed capturing Lee, and, on the morning of 
May 27, started for Hanover. It had been raining incessantly 
for two days, nor did it cease until about 11a. m. 

The roads were in a fearful condition, and when the clouds 
rolled away the sun came out so intensely hot that many of the 
men were nearly prostrated. 

It was about noon, I should judge, when we heard the sound 
of artillery ahead, and our march was hastened to the utter- 
most possible extent. About two o'clock, we reached the field 
where the action had been fought, and learned that the foe 
were retreating. We were immediately ordered in pursuit, 
and passing Dr. Kinney's house, struck the pike leading to- 
wards Richmond, or Ashland — I forget which. 

We had gone about two miles, when heavy firing in our 
rear attracted attention. Presently General Porter came rid- 
ing from the head of the column, and as he came opposite he 



CAMP AND FIELD. 83 

was met by a staff officer, who informed him that our men who 
had been left behind on the field were being hard pressed by 
strong- re-enforcements from Richmond, sent to assist Branch. 

The 13th N. Y. happened to be the hindmost regiment, and 
General Porter, turning to Marshall, our colonel, ordered him to 
reach the scene of action at the earliest possible moment. We 
did not wait to countermarch, but about-faced, and as soon as 
we had passed Weeden's battery, started upon the double-quick. 
By the time we reached Dr. Kinney's I felt like the broadside 
of a barn with an ache all over it. 

The knee-high clover, in a large field near Dr. Kinney's, came 
near finishing all of us. It was wet, and clung to our feet and 
legs, and it was only by the utmost exertion that we succeeded 
in " double-quicking."' We were hardly in condition to walk. 

We passed to the eastward of the mansion, and turned our 
head of column to the right, in rear of the line formed and 
forming under Martindale, who as he saw us approaching rode 
up and assumed command. He ordered us to the extreme left 
to anticipate a movement of the enemy down the railroad. 

Again it was "double-quick," until we had reached a piece of 
timber on a line with the woods occupied by our comrades. 
There we faced to the right bringing us fronting the railroad 
and on an alignment with the rest of Martindale's command. 
We passed into the woods a distance of, perhaps, three hundred 
yards, and then suddenly emerged in line of battle upon the edge 
of a field of growing wheat that came nearly to our knees. 

On the opposite side of this field was a rail fence, parallel to 
our front, and less than three hundred yards away; upon our 
right (with an interval of cleared country between), timber, 
and timber upon our left and left front. Towards our right 
front, which I judge to have been in a westerly direction, the 
country was open; and at a distance of from one-half to three- 
fourths of a mile away stood a house from which floated a 
yellow flag. It was the Confederate hospital. As we came out 
into the wheat-field, the sun dazzled our eyes; but we dis- 
covered a body of men marching by the flank across our front 
from right to left, behind and partly concealed by the fence in- 
closing the wheat. We could not exactly make out whether 
they were friends or foes, and several of us sang out to our own 
color-bearer: " Shake her out, Jack, shake her out, and let's 
see who they are." 



84 CAMP AND FIET.B. 

The flag was given to the breeze, and as its folds gently 
spread, aided by the swaying of the hands that held it, the 
passing column halted, coming to a front by a "left-face," and, 
before we had time to think, delivered a tremendous volley 
full at us. As we saw the movement of leveling tjie muskets 
every man of us dropped to earth, and the storm of lead passed 
harmlessly over our heads. Then kneeling, with the visors of 
our caps pulled low to shut out the glare of the sun, we opened 
by volley, and kept it up as rapidly as possible. The enemy 
shot wildly, whereas, judging from the way the splinters flew 
from the fence and the confusion in their ranks, our Reming- 
tons were making their position too uncomfortable to hold. 
After perhaps twenty minutes they began to waver, and we 
were ordered to charge. Ahead we went, but they did not 
await our coming. Away they flew to the rear, a majority of 
them seeking the friendly shadows of the woods adjacent. 

Reaching the fence we found it nearly dismantled by our 
fire. Behind it lay numerous dead and wounded, and to our 
right, hidden from our sight by the woods, we discovered the 
place where the enemy had evidently been preparing dinner. 
Fires were burning, cups of water steaming, hard-tack, meal, 
and bacon lay scattered about, and in one instance a dish of 
batter, out of which some of us had excellent griddle-cakes that 
night. Close by, in two long, systematic rows, just as they 
had been laid down, were the well-filled knapsacks of the 18th 
and 28th North Carolina, of Branch's division— nearly 1,500 of 
them. We gobbled them, and fine pickings we had, too. I 
secured an elegant dress suit, with "biled" shirts, collars, and 
cuffs, two pairs of silk stockings, and a villainous looking bowie- 
knife with a blade about eleven inches in length. 

I do not now remember the loss sustained by my regiment, 
but it was quite small— our manner of fighting had saved us. 
From the enemy, in addition to those disabled, we took many 
prisoners. Three members of my company, who went on a 
scout after we made camp, brought in thirteen Confederates 
with their arms and equipments. Besides, we captured their 
wagon containing hospital, surgical, and medical stores, am- 
bulances and teams, and when the rest of our brigade joined 
us we were resting on the field we had won. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



A War Roivlanck. 



s 



N 1864 and 1865 the Macon, Ga., 
City Hall anil the old market 
Q-:^ house were used as a hospital for 
^ wounded and sick Confederate 
soldiers. The ladies of the town con- 
stituted themselves nurses, and perhaps 
in no other hospital in the Confederacy 
did the patients fare so well. One day 
a lady went to the hospital to visit " her 
soldier." She was accompanied by a 
very handsome married lady, a refugee 
from New Orleans. When they reached 
the cot upon which the soldier lay 
writhing with pain, caused by the 
recent amputation of his left arm, they 
ministered to his wants and then sat by 
and cheered him with gentle words of 
comfort. As they were leaving the sol- 
dier requested the Xew Orleans lady to 
give him a small Confederate flag 



which she wore upon her breast. She 
gave him the flag, first writing her name 
on the white bar. The soldier re- 
covered, the war ended, and he returned 
to his home in Alabama. As something 
not to be forgotten, it should be men- 
tioned that at the time he was in the 
hospital he was unmarried, and contin- 
ued so after the war. In 1885 the sol- 
dier had occasion to visit New Orleans. 
He I'emembered the lady that gave him 
the flag, and made inquiries about her. 
He discovered that her husband died 
soon after the war, and that she, a 
widow, was still living in New Orleans. 
He called on her, then called again ; 
in fact he called many times. A few 
days ago there was a wedding in New 
Orleans, in which he and the lady fig- 
ured as principals. 



•♦ • • » 



THE BLUE, THE GRAY, AND GRANT. 



■^^^HEY sat together side by side, 
^^xVlv In the shade of an orange tree ; 
S^ One had followed the flag of Grant, 
The other had fought with Lee. 



" My leader lives " — the boy in blue 
Spoke low and with a sigh — 

" But all the country waits in fear 
That he to-day may die." 



The boy in blue had an empty sleeve, 
A crutch had the boy in gray. 

They talked of the long and dreary 
march, 
They talked of the bloody fray. 



" God bless our Grant ! " the vet'ran 
said. 

And dropped a tear, and then 
In heartfelt tones the answer came, 

For the rebel said — "Amen ! " 



" My chief is dead," the Johnny said, 

" A leader brave was he ; 
And sheathed fore'er at Lexington 

Doth hano- the sword of Lee." 



DRAWING LOTS FOR DEATH. 




-j-<- 



APT. HENRY W. SAWYER, of New Jersey, once 
passed through a very perilous adventure. He was 
among the Federal prisoners in Libby Prison at the 
time when the Confederate government determined to 
retaliate in kind the execution of two rebel officers by 



one of our Western 
generals. Mr. Sawyer 
was at that time a 
captain in the 1st N. 
J. cavalry, and was 
of the grade of officers 
from whom selections 
were to be made for 
the victims to Confed- 
erate vengeance. The 
officer who was in 
charge of the prisoners 




at that time was a kind- 
hearted and agree- 
able man, and was re- 
garded by them with 
feelings of gratitude 
and affection. On the 
morning in question 
this officer entered the 
room where the 
prisoners were con- 
fined, and told all the 
officers to walk out 



into another room. This order was obeyed with particular 
alacrity, as the prisoners were daily expecting to be exchanged, 
and it was supposed that the order had arrived, and that they 
were about to exchange their prison quarters for home and 
freedom. After they had all gathered in the room, their counte- 
nances lighted up with this agreeable hope, the officer came in 
among them, and with a very grave face took a paper out of 
his pocket and told them that he had a very melancholy duty 
to perform, the purport of which would be better understood by 
the reading of the order he held in his hand, which he had just 
received from the War Department. He then proceeded to read 
to the amazed and horrified group an order for the immediate 
execution of two of their number, in retaliation for the hanging 
of two Confederate officers. As the reader ceased the men 
looked at each other with blanched faces and a silence like 
death prevailed for some minutes in the room. The Confeder- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 87 

ate officer then suggested that perhaps the better way would 
be to place a number of slips of paper equal to the whole num- 
ber of officers from whom the victims were to be selected, in a 
box, with the word "death" written on two of them, and the 
rest blank — the two who drew the fatal slips to be the doomed 
men. This plan was adopted, and a chaplain was appointed to 
prepare the slips. The drawing then commenced, the men 
advancing and taking out a slip, and, if it proved to be a blank, 
taking their places in another part of the room. The drawing 
had proceeded for some time, and fully a third of the officers 
had exchanged gloomy looks of apprehension for a relieved as- 
pect they could not avoid showing, after escape from such 
terrible peril, before a fatal death slip had been drawn. At the 
end of about this period, however, the first slip was drawn, 
and the name of "Capt. Henry W. Sawyer of the 1st N. J. 
Cavalry '' was called out as the unfortunate man. The captain 
was, of course, deeply agitated, but did not lose his self- 
possession. He immediately began revolving in his mind some 
plan for averting, or at least postponing, the immediate carry- 
ing out of the sanguinary edict of the rebel government, and 
by the time he was joined by his companion in misfortune, 
who turned out to be a Captain Flynn of an Indiana regiment, 
he had resolved upon his course. The officer in command, as 
soon as the drawing was completed, ordered the two men to 
be taken out and immediately executed. Captain Sawyer, 
however, demanded, as a request that no civilized nation could 
refuse under such circumstances, that he should have permis- 
sion to write to his wife, to inform her of the terrible fate that 
awaited him, and to have her come on and bid him an eternal 
farewell. Respite for a day or two was thus obtained, and 
Sawyer subsequently obtained an interview with the rebel 
Secretary of War, and secured permission to write to his wife, 
which he did. His object in writing to her was principally for 
our government to be made acquainted with the predicament 
in which the officers were placed, and to secure hostages and 
threaten retaliation should the order of the rebels be carried 
out. It turned out precisely as Sawyer hoped and expected. 
Our government was informed of the condition of affairs, and 
proniptly seized a son of General Lee and one of some other 
prominent rebel, and threatened to hang them if the Union 
officers were executed. By this means the lives of the two 



88 CAMP AND FIELD. 

doomed men were saved, as the Confederate government did 
not dare to carry out their threats. After a few months more 
confinement, Captain Sawyer was exchanged. Captain Flynn, 
his companion in misfortune, came out of the ordeal with his 
hair as white as snow; turned gray by the mental sufferings 
he endured. Captain Sawyer served through the war. 



GRANT WAS RESPONSIBLE. 

A Time When Secretary Stanton Wanted to Raise Somebody's Scalp. 



§RANT had no fear of responsi- 
bility ; no fear of Secretary Stan- 
ton. I never knew him to show 
any fear of anything. In September, 
1864, while at Harper's Ferry, returning 
from a visit to Sheridan, he learned 
that Wade Hampton had slipped in, 
in the rear of the left flank of the 
Army of the Potomac, and carried oft' 
our entire beef herd — '2600 head ! When 
Secretary Stanton heard of the loss of 
the cattle, he wanted somebody's scalp, 
and telegraphed, " Who is responsible 
for the loss of the cattle herd?" To 
which General Grant replied, " I am." 
There was no " hair raised " that time. 
For several days afterward the " rebs," 



with much "mooing" and "lowing," 
frequently called out, " Hello, Yanks, 
don't you want some beef ? " While 
this was going on the " old man " would 
jokingly say, " I have the best conmiis- 
sary in the army ; he not only feeds my 
array, but that of the enemy also." 
Tt was only a few months after this that 
he directed the same officer at Appo- 
mattox to feed General Lee's famishing 
army. When shortly after this loss 
Sheridan made a big haul in " the val- 
ley," Grant felt better. Though the 
animals were not so large nor in such 
good condition as ours, they were in 
such numbers and of such size as to 
stop Johnny Reb's mouth. 



A READY ANSWER. 



GALLANT CONDUCT. 



fNE day when the traveling was 
tough, a teamster with broken 
wagon and mules tangled up, using 
language he thought hardly equal to 
his surroundings, was approached by a 
quiet man who said, "Are you a sol- 
dier ? " He i"eplied, " No, sir, I am a 
teamster — by brevet." 




fl^EXERAL DUANE, at one 
I time Chief Engineer of the 
Army of the Potomac, was, 
perhaps, the only officer who received a 
brevet for "highly distinguished pro- 
fessional services." He was also fre- 
quently breveted for " gallant and meri- 
torious conduct " in the field. 



MoTHER^BlCKERDlKE. 

One of the Grandest Women of the War. 



By BENJ. WOODWARD, Surg. 22d 111. 




: v^\x^\v^\v^v\.\^x^^'V.\X\^•v^^ 



WAS a surgeon in the army and was so situated as 
to preclude my witnessing many feats of valor in 
the field, but I can bear testimony to the uncom- 
plaining endurance of our soldiery in camp and 
hospital. 
I came also into constant contact with a 
group of noble women so heroic, so saint- 
like, so devoted to the poor sufferers as to 
raise them to the very pinnacle of woman- 
hood. I refer to the army nurses as I 
found them in camp and hospital. At 
home they were often maligned and de- 
spised, for it is a sad truth that in the first 
years of the wai', if a woman gave herself 
to the nation as a nurse she was looked 
down upon as one who debased herself. 
In the army they were accepted as angels 
of mercy. 

While I might speak of many of these 
choice spirits, I choose one as my heroine; 
a woman rough, uncultivated, even ig- 
norant, but a diamond in the rough. I 
knew this woman before the war as well 
as through it. I refer to Mrs. Bickerdike, known in camp, field, 
or hospital as Mother Bickerdike. She was a widow before the 
war, with a family of young children, and so poor that she 
supported her family by going out as a hired nurse. Let me 
describe my heroine: A large, heavy woman, about forty-five 
years of age, strong as a man, muscles of iron, nerves of finest 




90 CAMF AND FIKLD. 

steel — sensitive, but self-reliant, kind and tender, seeking all 
for others, for herself, nothing. Men of the Army of the Cum- 
berland, or of the Tennessee, knew her; they remember that old 
sun-bonnet and the old white mule she rode, and when she rode 
into our camp or came into the dreaded field hospital, how the 
shouts went up, '' Hurrah for Mother Bickerdikel '' 

In the fall of 1861, I was ordered to the charge of the general 
hospital, at Cairo, 111., a large, three-story brick building, in- 
tended for a hotel. The walls were rough, unplastered, and 
the third story had only loose rough boards for a floor. Gath- 
ered into that place were about 300 sick men — camp diarrhoea, 
dysentery, typhoid fever, and measles. No ice to be had, the 
water just out of the foul Mississippi river; no nurses but men 
from the ranks, all unused to the care of the sick; no changes 
of underclothes; no convenience for bathing; no nice cooking for 
the sick. In the midst of such suffering and disorder nothing 
but the warm heart and willing hand of woman could bring 
order out of chaos. I went to Major Timmons, the medical 
director, for aid. He was willing to try a woman, but feared 
General Grant, who commanded the post, would not consent; 
but on laying the matter before him and showing how impera- 
tive was the necessity, he consented, if the right woman could 
be found. Mrs. Bickerdike was written for, and as the ladies 
of Galesburg (which was her home and mine) charged them- 
selves with the care of her children, she came to Cairo, bring- 
ing with her a good supply of hospital clothing and delicacies 
for the sick. At first the men ridiculed her, but her cheerful 
temper took no offense, for she knew she was right; but woe to 
the man who insulted her. Her first requisition was for bath- 
ing-tubs; these were made froin half-hogsheads and barrels. 
She organized the nurses, saw that all the sick were cleaned, 
and, as far as possible, given clean underclothes. A special 
diet-kitchen was established, and a great change for the better 
was soon seen in the patients. As a rule she hated officers, 
looking on them as natural enemies of the privates. This, no 
doubt, she got from her husband, who had been a musician in 
the regular army. 

" Them pesky ossifers," as she always called them, soon saw 
her worth and esteemed her, but she would bear no fooling. 
One day she caught a young lieutenant, who had been sick a 
few days before but who had now recovered, around with a hos- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 91 

pital shirt on, and to which he had no right. With a few 
Avithering words she grabbed him and stripped the shirt over his 
head, and turned him out of the room amidst the laughter of 
thirty or forty men. 

As she went with the army to New Madrid, Island No. 10, 
Fort Pillow, and up to Corinth, every man knew her and 
always hailed her as Mother Bickerdike; and she was a mother 
to the men. Grant and Sherman highly esteemed her, and the 
latter gave her a large white mule, saddle and bridle, and as 
it was not a side-saddle she had it so altered that she could ride 
on it. 

Her pertinacity was such that when, in Southern Tennessee, 
sanitary goods were needed at the front, but no quartermaster 
would give her transportation, she, in the night, loaded a car 
and had it pushed to a train. The quartermaster, seeing Gene- 
ral Sherman told him what she had done. 

''Well," said the general, "she ranks me. You will have to 
let it go, I guess." 

So this woman labored, month by month and year by year, 
till peace came. She had saved a little money, and friends 
helped her to go to Kansas, and at Abilene, I think it was, the 
railroad allowed her to build a house as an eating station, giv- 
ing her the promise of a deed to the land. She did well, but no 
deed came. A change in the railroad management turned her 
out, not even paying her for the house. 

Where she now is, is more than I know, but this I do know, 
that she is entitled to as good a pension as is the widow of any 
general. This paper is too long now, or I would like to tell of 
those ministering angels, Mrs. Wittenmyer, and Mrs. Hays. 
The latter took care of me like a sister when sick in Camp Big 
Springs. Of these and many other well known women who 
gave time and labor for the disabled, much might be said. So, 
too, of the Sisters of Charity, who worked in hospitals, doing 
great good. But none of them, so far as came under my ob- 
servation, followed the men to the field. Such work seemed to 
be left for the women who came from the homes of the North. 
But upon all who thus labored, wdiether in hospital, garrison, 
or field, I believe the Great Master has set his seal, and in the 
day when lives are accounted for, he will say, "Well done, 
good and faithful servants: w^liat you did for the least of my 
friends, ye did it unto me. Take your crown of reward." 



BATTLE OF FAIR OAKS, 

And the Behavior of the Eighty- Fifth New York in that Bloody Contest, 

May 31, 1862. 
E. B. STILLMAN, 85th N. T. VET. VOLUNTEERS. 



|^|HE S5th N. Y. Regt, was encamped to the 
left of the Williamsburg road, and about 
one hundred yards to the left and rear of 
the redoubt, and was the support of the bat- 
tery of Napoleon guns, three of which were in 
the redoubt and three at the left, a few rods in 
rear of our rifle-pits, and were attached to Palmer's 
brigade, Casey's division. 

We had nearly completed a line of rifle-pits 
from the redoubt to the left — of sufficient length to 
cover the regiment. Front of our works and for about four hun- 
dred yards was a level field covered with green wheat; then 
came a rail fence and one-fourth of a mile of slashed timber; 
then the woods, in which our pickets were posted. About noon 
of the 31st of May, three cannons were fired by the rebels, the 
shots falling a short distance in the rear of our camp. We fell 
in and advanced to the rifle-pits. Picket firing soon commenced, 
and the 103d Pennsylvania was sent out on the Williamsburg 
road to support the pickets; then the 03d New York was posted 
along the fence, next to the slashing in our front. In a short 
time a heavy volley of musketry was heard where the 103d 
Pennsylvania had gone and in a few minutes the Pennsyl- 
vanians and pickets came pouring back in a perfect panic. I 
don't think they stopped till well to the rear of Couch's division, 
three-quarters of a mile in the rear, no doubt giving rise to the 
rumor that Casey's men had been "surprised and had retreated 
in disorder." 




CAMP ANP FIELD 93 

We could see the rebel battle-flags above the slashing as the 
rebel troops advanced. The battery near the redoubt opened 
on them, but without effect. They fired wildly, throwing some 
of their shells into the ranks of the 92d New York, causing 
their retreat. There was now no force between us and the Con- 
federates, a brigade strong, who dressed their lines at the edge 
of the wheat field, and recommenced their advance. Our bat- 
tery fired one or two rounds of canister and then the men stood 
not on the order of going, but went as fast as their legs could 
carry them, leaving cannon, ammunition, horses and all, and 
the 85th Regt. to hold the position unaided. 

We had taken position in the rifle-pits — standing in water 
from ankle to knee-deep. The Johnnies were in good shape, 
the field-officers, mounted, following close in rear of their line 
of battle. Our colonel and major had disappeared; our lieuten- 
ant-colonel was wounded, leaving the command to Capt. W. 
W. Clarke, of Co. B, who, cool as a cucumber and brave as a 
lion, ordered us to fire low and take good aim. The rebels ad- 
vanced slowly, loading and firing as they came, and on tjie 
green field in our front presented a splendid mark* In a short 
time our fire had dismounted their officers and was having a ter- 
rible effect on their ranks. They began to find it very difficult 
to carry their colors, and when within about one hundred yards 
of us they began to break up and lie down. In firing at a rest 
over the wet, soft bank of the pits, our guns had cut a channel 
that bore directly on the rebels, and with little pains we could 
make every shot tell. They were in fine range and not firing 
at us, for it was too hot for human endurance. They soon com- 
menced running back, and pluckily tried to take their colors 
and battle-flags, but it was sure death to touch a staff, and they 
gave it up — leaving every flag on the field and seemingly two- 
thirds of their number. 

We remained there over two hours, and no other force ap- 
peared in our front while we staid in the rifle-pits, but we could 
see a heavy rebel column just out of range on our left, march- 
ing with arms at a right shoulder-shift, to take us and our forces 
in flank. We expected re-enforcements from Couch's division 
to hold our lines, but none came, and we were ordered out and 
retreated as far as our camps, and were then ordered back to 
the rifle-pits again. By this time all the battery horses had 
been shot down as they stood hitched to the limbers; the rebels 



94 CAMP AND FIELD. 

had broken our lines to our right and were some distance to the 
rear and right of us. At the same time there appeared to be no 
end of tlie Johnnies flanking on our left, the head of the column 
being far to the rear of our line. No re-enforcements coming, 
we were again ordered to the rear — every man for himself — 
and that ended the organized fighting of the 8oth for that day. 
We got back to Couch's line as best we could, but we saw no 
fighting there except at extremely long range. The writer was 
near the right of the 10th Massachusetts when they received 
the heavy fire in flank from the troops that had flanked us out 
of our position. 



'Ke l^tS ^et^^raFi (Sorpg. 



J. WARD CHILDS. 

Air — ^^ Joe Bcnvers.'''' 



% 



//-J^E brave, immortal vetei-ans, Led on by gallant Sherman, 



<x?\(^f? Ye gallant sons of Mars, The idol of the land. 

Who've borne through many a battle The noblest of our generals. 

Our glorious Stripes and Stars, And the bravest in command. 

Come listen to a soldier We marciied through the rebellion, 

While he his song shall pour A terror to the foe. 

In honor of the veterans And driving all before us, 

Of the gallant Fifteenth Corps. We struck the final blow. 

The heroes of New England They call us Sherman's " bummers," 

Stood well the bloody test. And, doubtless we are " some," 

But none won brighter laurels For marching down through Dixie, 

Than the veterans of the West. We went on many a " bum " ; 

AVhere blushed the vales the deepest We " bunnned " it at Atlanta, 

With streams of human gore. And at Savannah, too. 

And where the slain lay thickest. And all the way to Bentonville, 

There fought the Fifteenth Corps. Where we put the Johnnies through. 

And now the war is over, 

The rebellion is no more. 
The Union re-estal)lished, 

And our bloody fighting o'er. 
We'll fill to General Sherman, 

While loud, from shore to shore, 
Shall ring the parting tribute 

Of tlie Fifteenth Veteran Corps. 



Casey's Division. 

Its Gallant Behavior at the Battle of Fair Oaks. 

HARD FIGHTING 0^ BOTH SIDES.— GENERAL HOOKER'S COOL 
CHARGE FORCING THE ENEMY TO RETREAT. 

GEORGE H. JOHNSTON, A, A. G., Naglee's Brigade. 




Col 



SHALL speak of the 2d and 3d Brigades in a general 
way only, but of Naglee's brigade in particular. This 
brigade was composed of lOith Penn., Col. W. H. H. 
Davis; 11th Me., Lieut. -Col. H. F. Plaisted; 5(ith N. Y., 
H. Van Wyck; 5->d 
Penn., Col. J. C. Dodge; and 
100th N. Y., Col. J. M. Brown. 
On the 24th of May General 
McClellan ordered General 
Naglee to make a reconnais- 
sance from the "chimneys" 
near Bottom's Bridge by way of 
Williamsburg road, and, if 
possible, to advance to the 
Seven Pines, and to hold that 
point if practicable. Accord- 
ingly, Naglee's brigade, with 
the addition of two batteries 
of the 1st N. Y. Artillery and Gregg's regiment of Penn. 
cavalry, pushed forw^ard, but not without stubborn re- 
sistance. They gained a little from day to day. till on 
the 28th General Casey's division was about one mile beyond 
Seven Pines on the Williamsburg road. Our right extended to 
the railroad and beyond, crossing it at right angles between 
the fifth and sixth mile-post from Richmond. From the left of 




96 CAMP AND FIELD, 

the Williamsburg turnpike to the White Oak Swamp, Naglee's 
brigade was on the right, Wessel's in the center, and Palmer's 
on the left. This was the position of the division the day of 
the commencement of the battle — at least one-half mile nearer 
Richmond than was again reached during the Peninsular cam- 
paign. The fight opened on the 31st of May, 12 m. The first 
notice we had was the explosion of two shells in our camp — 
evidently their signal to advance. The attack was sudden, but 
not a surprise, for cars had been running all night on the Rich- 
mond end of the railroad, and Lieutenant Washington, A. D. 
C. on General Johnston's staff, had been captured the day be- 
fore; these, with other suspicious circumstances, kept all, from 
General Casey down, constantly on the alert. We felt that 
some one had blundered in placing this small division of less 
than 5,000 men in such a critical position. It was like a 
finger thrust forward into the fire to test its endurance. The 
enemy moved down the Williamsburg turnpike in solid 
columns, our pickets falling back till within a quarter of a mile 
from the first line of rifle-pits, where Spratt's battery of four 
pieces was posted, supported by the 104tli Penn, Vols., 11th 
Me., 100th N. Y. (of Naglee's brigade), and the 92d N. Y. (of 
Palmer's brigade). 

Here some of the hardest fighting ever known took place. 
General Casey says in his report it was the most terrific fire 
of musketry that he had ever witnessed. General Naglee says, 
"The air at this time was literally filled with iron and lead." 
It was here that the bayonet charge was made by the four reg- 
iments last mentioned, led by General Naglee; so close were 
the combatants that Sergeant Potter, of the 104th Penn., was 
struck on the head by a musket in the hands of a Confederate, 
and two or three men of the 11th Me. were bayoneted. 

Receiving no re-enforcements these regiments, with Spratt's 
battery, retired to the first line of rifle-pits. Here was posted 
the balance of Casey's 3d and 3d Brigades, and the battle was 
renewed with great fury; the four batteries of 1st N. Y. Artil- 
lery, viz., Lieutenant Hart's, Regan's, Spratt's, and Fitch's — per- 
formed splendid service. At every discharge wide gaps were 
opened in the enemy's ranks. We could have held them at 
this placs had it not been for the fact that the enemy had 
flanked us on the left, and their sharpshooters were picking off 
our officers and men, and had succeeded in killing three or four 



CAMP AND FIT^LD. 97 

horses attached to every team of the batteries. Here fell many 
a gallant soldier — Col. G. D. Bailey, 1st N. Y. Artillery, who was 
shot in the head while attempting to spike some of his guns in 
the redoubt; Major Van Valkenberg, and Adjutant Hart, of the 
same regiment; Colonel Brown, 100th N. Y. ; the major, 104th 
Penn., and Colonel Davis, of the same regiment, with many 
others severely wounded. Not a field-officer was left of 
Naglee's brigade. Disputing every inch of ground, we re- 
treated toward the second line, Regan's battery firing up the 
Williamsburg turnpike at the advancing enemy, his guns be- 
ing hauled by prolongs, all his horses having been killed, • It 
was a close spot for Regan, but he succeeded in saving his bat- 
te*ry. Here was stationed General Couch's division, and, with 
the assistance of one brigade from'General Kearney, which had 
just arrived, an attempt was made to regain the lost ground, 
but it proved a failure, and the troops, by order of General 
Heintzelman, retreated to the third line. 

The 56th N. Y. and 52d Penn., with a detachment of the 11th 
Me., were on the extreme right of Naglee's brigade, near the 
railroad, at the commencement of the battle, where they suf- 
fered heavy loss, their position having been flanked. By an 
order of General Naglee, what was left of the 56th N. Y. and 
a detachment of 11th Me. joined the balance of the brigade, 
near the second line, and fought with them through the re- 
mainder of the battle. When the order to retreat was given to 
Colonel Dodge, of the 52d Penn., he begged to be allowed to re- 
main and fight it out on that line, as he did not wish to fall 
back, leaving his dead upon the field. For some time after he 
remained fighting against fearful odds until their retreat was 
cut off, and they escaped by passing through the wood to the 
left and rear, where they rejoined their comrades of the 1st 
Brigade, and retreated with them to the third line, the regiment 
being reduced to a little over 100 men. Naglee's brigade went 
into action with eighty-four officers and 1,670 men; of this 
number thirty-five officers and 603 men were killed, wounded, 
or taken prisoners. Up to this time, although large re-enforce- 
ments had arrived, the enemy had not been repulsed. They 
were first successfully checked by the " White Diamond " boys, 
under General Hooker, who marched up the Williamsburg 
road, deploying to the right and left in the field, in advance of 
us, as coolly as if on parade. They moved into the woods in 



98 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



line of battle, driving the enemy before them, and. much to our 
relief, we saw no more of "Johnny Reb" after that charge. 
We have thus hastily sketched what came under our own ob- 
servation — the part taken by General Casey's division, particu- 
larly Naglee's brigade, in the celebrated battle of Fair Oaks. 
General Casey was in the thickest of the fight. Hatless, his 
gray hair exposed to the breeze, it seemed a miracle he wasn't 
killed. Naglee was struck four times, had one horse killed 
under him and another wounded. General Wessels was 
wounded and his horse killed. Some few of the men anticipat- 
ing, perhaps, McClellan's strategical movement, fell back. It 
could not be called retreating, but a " change of base," as Mc- 
Clellan styled the same kind of strategy a week or two after. 



A HOUSEFUL OF NORTHERN GENERALS. 

THE SILENT MAN. 

RELATED BY A VIRGINIA CLERGYMAN. 



\'^^ Y house was full of Northern 
I generals one night during 
^^^ the Virginia campaign. 
There was Sheridan, Hum- 
phreys, Meade, Custer, Ord, and quite a 
number of others, and they were a 
lively set and full of fun, with the ex- 
ception of one ofRoer whom I noticed 
sitting in a corner smoking, and taking 
but little part in the sports in which the 
rest were engaged. They all went out 
of the house but this solitary, silent 
man, and as I was going out he asked 
me where the pump was, as he would 
like to get a drink. On offering to get 
him some water, he said : " No, sir, I 
am a younger man than you, I will go 
myself," and as I passed out he came up 
behind me. When in about the middle 
of the hall my little granddaughter came 
running toward me, but the silent man, 
spreading out both arms, caught her, 
taking her up, fairly smothered with 
kisses, said : " This reminds me of my 
little girl at home, and makes me home- 



sick." In response to the question 
where is your home, he replied : " Galena, 
111., but I have my family at City Point, 
and am anxious to get back to them." 
I said, " Will you permit me to ask 
your name, sir ? " " Certainly, my name 
is Grant." " Grant," exclaimed I, " Gen- 
eral Grant ? " and I stood there awe 
stricken and paralyzed with astonish- 
ment, while ' my heart went out after 
this man. I thought to myself, here is 
a man whose name is now in the mouth 
of man, woman, and child throughout 
the civilized world, and yet withal he 
exhibits no emotion and seems uncon- 
cerned and unmoved until the little 
child reminds him of his loved ones 
at home, and I fairly broke down, as 
General Grant had been pictured out to 
us as a bloody butcher, and I had looked 
for a man looking as savage as a Co- 
manche Indian. To say that I was 
agreeably disappointed when I saw 
Grant but feebly expresses my feel- 
ings. 



FEEDING AN ARMT. 

STARTLING QUANTITIES OF FOOD CONSUMED. 

HENRY C. DWIGHT, Commissary 2d Div. i8th Corps. 





IDEA of the quantity of food necessary for the 
troops in camp and field may interest the 
friends of the veterans; the veterans them- 
selves know well what they had and how 
they got it. 

As captain of a company the duty was 
easily attended to. The rations were drawn 
usually by a sergeant or the company cook of 
the quartermaster of the regiment, upon 
requisition of the commanding officer of the company, usually 
for five days at a time, the variety depending on the point of 
distribution. Meat, bread, coffee, and sugar were the princi- 
pal items of the bill of fare, varied with that hated vegetable, 
rice; beans were always appreciated; potatoes, dessicated veg- 
etables, split peas and other articles were issued spasmodically. 
The bread was soft bread or hard bread as most convenient, 
but hard bread was the great staple. Salt, pepper, vinegar, and 
candles filled out the bill. 

RATION ALLOWANCES. 

The meat ration was varied by giving pork, bacon, or salt or 
fresh beef. The pork and salt beef were generally good, the 
bacon and fresh beef fair. The coffee was of superior quality, 
much better than that sold by grocers generally. The ration 
was as follows: Twelve ounces of pork or bacon, or twenty 
ounces of salt or fresh beef, twenty-two ounces of flour or soft 
bread or sixteen ounces of hard bread per day for each man; 
and to every one hundred men per day fifteen pounds of beans 



100 CAMP AND FIELD. 

and ten pqunds of rice, eight pounds of ground coffee, or one and 
one-half pounds of tea, fifteen pounds of sugar, four quarts of 
vinegar, thirty pounds of potatoes, four pounds of soap, three 
and three-fourths pounds of salt, one-fourth pound of pepper, 
one and one-fourth pounds of candle. 

COOKING THE RATIONS. 

The cooking of the rations was an item of interest, and growl- 
ing of the men was sure to follow any shortcoming, and woe 
betide any cook who disregarded this thermometer of public 
sentiment. On receiving orders to march with say five days' 
cooked rations, the meat was prepared, and haversacks filled 
with meat, bread, coffee, and sugar. The coffee and sugar were 
mixed together and each man distributed his proportion — so 
many spoonfuls — which was put into a cloth bag or wrapped in 
paper, and the men were ready for the trip. In camp the com- 
pany cook made the coffee, but on the march each man made 
his own, and they were all experts. Each man, as the halt was 
called, made a fire and putting the coffee in his cup nearly full 
of water, waited patiently for it to boil. Hard bread and raw 
salt pork were not very bad and the appetite made it exceed- 
ingly good. 

DUTIES OF A POST COMMISSARY. 

A post commissary was usually located in the vicinity of any 
large number of troops; his duties were to issue rations to 
detached troops who did not belong to any brigade or division, 
to hospitals, sell stores to officers, etc. This was the best posi- 
tion in the subsistence department. Officers did not draw 
rations, but bought their supplies for their mess. Officers cer- 
tified in writing that the stores wanted were for their own use 
and cash was paid for each purchase. Every month prices 
at which sales could be made were given by the chief com- 
missary. It was quite necessary to have post commissaries as 
the demand for stores was large and supplies could not be 
readily obtained elsewhere, except of the sutlers, and govern- 
ment prices were much less than theirs. 

THE DIVISION COMMISSARY. 

The division commissary's position was one of great responsi- 
bility, but his duties were limited to issuing to the brigade 
commissaries. H^ issued in original packages, to the brigade 



CAMP AND FIELD, 101 

commissaries, who in turn issued to regiments, batteries, etc., 
of his brigade, the quartermaster of each regiment issuing to 
the companies of his regiment. 

Night and day the mules were hitched to or near the wagons, 
as the orders might come at any hour to move. This wagon 
train was quite an army of itself. The great quantity of food 
that an army required can be imagined from the fact that it 
took thirty-nine six-mule teams for my own division. There 
were three divisions in this corps and usually this number in 
all corps. The wagons had the corps badge on the covers — the 
first division red, the second white, and the third blue. The 
wagon train was managed by the head teamster, who was a 
man of untiring energy and usually of profanity enough for 
the 200 to 300 mules in his charge. Every wagon had one 
teamster, and it was marvelous how they could drive in 
and over roads that surpass any you can conceive of for ine- 
quality and mud. During August and September, 18G4, the 
supply of fresh bread was made at Norfolk, Va. , for my divi- 
sion, brought by steamer up the James and Appomattox rivers 
to Point of Rocks, Va., or Bermuda Hundred. Fresh bread 
was issued two days in five, hard bread the other three; but 
one brigade at a time could be served. This bread was very 
good and the quantity, one loaf for each man, amply suffi- 
cient. 

My colored boy, Joe Gray, was told by his mistress that the 
Yankees were awful people, had nails in their bread, etc. Joe 
ran away and came into Washington, N. C. He saw a soldier 
eating his supper and asked him to give him some bread. The 
soldier throw him a "hard-tack." 

Joe bit into it and there was a nail in the first bite. "Aha," 
says Joe, "the old ooman was right, Yankees have nails in the 
bread, sure nuf." 

The hard bread which was packed in boxes of eighty pounds 
each, had different marks or brands. Some were marked " B. 
C." The boys said they knew some of it was old, but they 
could not comprehend why it had been kept so long on hand, 
and asked for some marked "Anno Domini." 

My endeavors to feed the troops with the full ration, varied 
as much as possible. I was ably seconded by those with whom 
I was associated and the division under my charge were as 
well fed as any in the army. 



102 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



The list given will show what the 3d Div. under my charge 
had to eat in August, 1864: — 

Pork, 
Bacon, 



Ham, 

Salt beef, 
Fresh beef, 
Flour (soft bread), 
Dried apples, 
Coffee, 
Tea, 

Brown sugar, 
White sugar, 
Vinegar, 
Salt fish, 
Candles, 
Potatoes, 
Hard bread, 
Onions, 
Beets, 
Beans, 
Salt, 
Rice, 
Whisky, 
Besides pepper, peas, soap, and other lesser supplies. 



448 barrels, 
13,109 barrels, 
1,434 barrels, 
76 barrels, 

51,155 pounds, 

5"28 barrels, 

4,011 pounds, 

13,510 pounds, 
1,392 pounds, 

42,469 pounds, 
7,383 pounds, 
1,975 gallons, 

15,205 pounds, 
3,075 pounds, 

69,066 pounds, 
144,883 pounds, 

25,063 pounds, 
5,251 pounds, 

30,772 pounds, 

10,962 pounds, 
3,619 pounds, 
,4,198 gallons, 



"Whisky was an extra ration, issued generally day by day as 
occasion might require, the season of the year and the duty 
required having more or less to do with it. The ration was one 
gill per day to each man. 

The ration of whisky did not always satisfy the wants of 
some of the boys, and they resorted to many ways to get some. 
My clerk was frequently offered twenty-five dollars for a can- 
teen full (about a quart) and in one instance he was offered 
fifty dollars. All such bids were declined, as it could be sold 
only to officers who made written requisition for it, certifying it 
was for their own use. Sometimes the officer's signature was 
forged, but this was exceptional; I remember but one instance. 
In this case an officer very pompously made known his griev- 
ance, and expatiated at length on the lack of intelligence of the 
commissary. Orders were given to decline any orders with 
his name attached, and the officer said all right. In a few 
moments he came back and asked, "What am I to do when 
I want some myself?" "Go without it," I said. He replied, 
"Never mind the possibility of orders being forged, go on as 
you have been doing; I take it all back, I want some my- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 103 

self." One man having indulged too freely in whisky was 
reprimanded and he said, •' You must not expect all the moral 
virtues for sixteen dollars a month.*' 

The Sanitary Commission had its representative about the 
several hospitals to see about the distribution of the supplies so 
generously sent to the soldiers and the boys invented many ex- 
cuses to get hold of the good things. These representatives, 
however, were wide-awake and seldom failed to understand 
the tricks. One day, three officers, being "dry as a fish," 
thought well of applying to the Sanitary Commission for some 
stores. They deputized one of their servants to wait upon 
Sanitary and present their claim. This duty fell upon "Tip," 
who at once went and made known his wants. Sanitary said, 
" What do you want?" Tip was rather taken back by so direct 
an inquiry and looking around saw so much stuff he could 
hardly fix upon any article, but finally said, " Canned peaches." 
"What is the matter with your sick friend," said Sanitary. 
"Chronic diarrhoea," said Tip. "Chronic diarrhoea! " said Sani- 
tary; "canned peaches are the worst thing he could have." 
Tip went out and returned to his comrades, telling them of his 
failure. Their actions were clouded by words we Avill not repeat. 

Thus the veteran of 18G1 to 18G5 fared for food. There were 
no luxuries, but there was little grumbling on that account. 
The articles furnished were as a rule the best to be obtained. 

Brave old souls! they fought well, and nobly did they win. 
Many are still with us to-day. In every town, city, and village 
they live. They walk your streets and visit your homes. Be- 
neath a plain exterior and a figure perhaps poorly or plainly 
clad, there beats the heart of as brave a soldier as the world 
ever knew; and though perhaps it may be only a private, cor- 
poral, or sergeant, yet he did his part, he fought the fight as 
well as any one ever did or could — and that is enough for any 
man. 

GAINES' MILL POPULAR GOVERNMENT. 



The battle of Gaines' Mill was the The test of popular government on 

beginning of the disasters of the army trial, which was applied to us at the 

tinder McClellan, and it raised the only time of the Presidential election of 

formidable siege made to Richmond 1864, was such as had never before been 

during the war. applied to any nation on earth. 



104 CAMP AND FIELD. 




MOSES G. OWEN, BATH, ME. 




OTIIING but flags — but simple Nothing but flags — yet they're bathed 
flags, in tears ; 

Tattered and torn and hanging They tell of triumphs, of hopes, of 
in rags ; fears ; 

And we walk beneath them with care- Of a mother's prayers, of a boy away ; 

less tread. Of a serpent crushed, of the coming 
Nor think of the hosts of the mighty day ! 

• dead Silent they speak, yet the tears will 
Who have marched beneath them in start 

days gone by As we stand beneath them with throb- 
With a burning cheek and a kindling bing heart, 

eye. And think of those who are ne'er forgot ; 

And have bathed their folds in their Their flags come home — why eome they 

young life's tide, not ? 

And dying blessed them, and blessing 

died. 

Nothing but flags — yet we hold our 
Nothing but flags— yet methinks at night breath 

They tell each other their tales of fright ; And gaze with awe at those types of 
And dim specters come, and their thin death. 

arms twine . Nothing but flags, yet the thought will 

Roiuid each standard torn as they stand come, 

in line. The heart must pray, though the lips 
And the word is given, — they charge ! be dumb I 

they form ! They are sacred, pure, and we see no 
And the dim hall rings with the battle stain 

storm. On those dear loved flags, come home 
And once again through the smoke and again ; 

strife Baptized in blood, our purest, best, 

Those colors lead to a Nation's life. Tattered and torn, they're now at rest. 



A Shot Fired at the Wrong Time. 



NOBOBY DIB IT. 



FIRST INTRODUCTION TO GENERAL SHERMAN. 



By GEN. GEO. E. IVtcGINNIS. 




BOUT eight o'clock a. m., April 8, 1862, the 
morning after the second day's fight at 
Shiloh, while quietly seated at my head- 
quarters, which was the butt end of a 
tree, close to the road and about three 
hundred yards in advance of Shiloh meeting 
house, my attention was attracted by a solitary horseman com- 
ing in my direction. He was dressed in citizens' clothes which 
would not improperly have been called " misfit.*' He was lean 
and lank, with sandy complexion, hair, and beard, the latter 
looking as though it had not been cut for a week or ten days. I 
concluded from his general appearance that he was an honest 
old farmer who had a son in the army, and, being anxious 
about him, had left home, without preparation, as soon as he 
got news of the battle, to look after and care for that son in case 
he should find him killed or wounded. As soon as my supposed 
farmer came within speaking distance, the following conversa- 
tion took place: — 

I — " Good morning, sir." 

He — " Good morning. What regiment is this?" 
J— ''The 11th Indiana, sir." 
He—'' Who is the colonel? " 
J—" McGinnis." 
ife—" Where is McGinnis?" 
I — " I'm the man, sir." 

He — (Looking at me with astonishment, and apparently 
amazed that such a looking chap as I was should be intrusted 



106 CAMP AND FIELD. 

with the command of a regiment of men) " I am General Sher- 
man." 

I — (My turn to be astonished, and for the moment dum- 
founded, and without thinking of the enormity of the offense) 
" The — (revised edition) you are!" 

He — (Seeing the point, and taking in the situation, smihngly) 
"Yes." 

There had been an alarm in camp that morning; the men on 
picket duty had deserted their posts and came tearing through 
our quarters as though the rebel army was at their heels. I 
succeeded in persuading a big lieutenant to stop long enough 
to tell me that they had been driven in by the rebels. I couldn't 
get another word. He was the worst scared man I ever saw. 
There was not a word of truth in his story, as the rebel army 
was miles away, making the best of their way to Corinth. The 
alarm was caused by several of our regiments discharging their 
pieces. This was done without authority and without notice to 
any one, and for a few minutes led many to believe that 
another battle was on. This affair riled General Sherman ter- 
ribly. He put on his war paint and started out to give orders 
in person. After the above introduction, the general asked in- 
formation in relation to any disturbance in our front, and re- 
ceived all I could give him. He then delivered a short oration, 
and closed with an order to arrest any man who was caught in 
the act of firing a gun or pistol. Send him under guard to his 
headquarters, and he would have him shot, I assured General 
Sherman his order should be obeyed. He was assured that 
no man in the 11th Regt. had discharged a gun that mornings 
and that all the men were then engaged in cleaning their arms. 

The general, satisfied that his orders would be obeyed, with a 
pleasant good morning, passed on up the road, and I reoccupied 
my headquarters. A message was immediately sent to com- 
pany officers to caution their men in regard to firing, and in- 
forming them of Sherman's orders. Sherman had certainly 
not gone more than one hundred yards, when " bang" went a 
musket right on the left of my regiment. I knew it was in 
Company K. I looked up the road, saw Sherman stop and look 
back; jumped to my feet and started toward the left, just as 
Sherman turned his horse to come back. I got to K quarters 
but a minute after my message had been delivered, and asked, 
" Who fired that gun? " The answer came back from a dozen 



CAMP AND FIELD. 107 

throats, "It was over in that regiment on the left, colonel." O, 
but the private soldiers were sharp. 

Said I, "Are you sure it was not fired by a Company K man?" 
Every man was sure. 

Said I: " There is General Sherman ready to have the man 
who fired that gun shot, if he can be found. Are you still sure 
as to where that shot was fired?" Every man was willing to 
swear and stick to it that the shot was fired by the regiment 
on our left, and they were so earnest about it that I wanted to 
believe them. 

In fact, I was so anxious and determined to save my boys 
from being shot, that I did believe them, and reported to Sher- 
man, who was waiting for me, that I had thought at first the 
shot was fired in my regiment, but after a hasty investigation 
I was fully satisfied that it was in the next regiment beyond, 
and doubtless accidental. 

He looked a little queer, asked some very direct questions, 
acted as though he didn't believe me any more than I believed 
the boys, and with the caution, " Tell the boys to be careful or 
somebody will get hurt," rode away. 

This was my first introduction to General Sherman. 



A SUROICAIv WONDKR. 

By DR. HUNTER McGUIRE, Chief Surgeon on "Stonewall" Jackson's Staff. 



THE ONLY MAN ON RECORD WHO HAS SEEN HIS OWN LIVER. 

AFTER one of the battles in the want is for some one to do something 

valley of Virginia I was riding for me." 

/^ along a dusty road one hot day Although the ca.se appeared a hope- 

l when I saw a Confederate officer less one, I procured a tub of water 

\ lying upon the ground desperately and washed the wound, then handed 

) wounded. Upon an examination I him a mirror and in it he saw reflected 

discovered that he had received a his own liver. Upon an examina- 

wound in the abdomen. His intestines tion, I discovered that the walls of 

were protruding several inches, and the stomach had not been injured, 

covered with du.st. I expres.sed my The wound was sewed up and the 

regret at being unable to do anything officer rapidly recovered. The case is 

for the sufferer. He was in good spirits, one of the most remarkable ones that 

and replied : " Two or three other doc- have ever come to the knowledge of the 

tors have said the same thing. What I medical profession. 



"Johnny Shiloh." 

(JOHN L. CLEN4.) 

ige: ®r?ammer B©^ ©f (2BieS(amQMg0. 



WONDERFUL CAREER OF A TEN-YEAR OLD BOY. 



«?•- '^i^-xV^^S'T'^!^^-- ••-,»»- • 




IHIS lad went into the 
Being refused as a 
train which carried 
front, determined to 
possible, but to go anyhow, 
the 22d Mich., but thougli 
for his indomitable spirit he 
that organization. Young- 
duties and movements of 
he gained the goal of his 
listed as a drummer. This 
the battle of Shiloh. 
of eleven years covered || 
He went in as a volun 
deadly shower of shot| 
himself a man. With 
swinging between his 
marched up the bloody 
beating the charge 
paid to beat. The 
by an exploding shell, 
then felled to earth by 
trudged along, advanc- 
the command with- 




army in '61, a boy of ten. 
drummer, he boarded the 
the 3d Ohio Regt. to the 
go as an enlisted man if 
He next offered himself to 
refused, out of admiration 
was permitted to accompany 
Clem participated in the 
this regiment until 'G3, when 
ambition by being duly en- 
was not, however, until after 
In that fight this boy 
his name with glory, 
teer and under the 
and shell he bore 
a regulation drum 
youthful legs he 
hill from the river 
that others were 
drum was smashed 
but the boy, now and 
the falling branches 
ing and receding, as 
stood or wavered un- 



der the scorching fire of the rebels. That this fire was deadly 
was evidenced by the corpses so thickly strewn that one could 



<eAMP AND FIELb. 109 

almost step from body to body at a single stride. Had he 
been a man, at the close of that engagement he would have 
been rewarded with a commission. As it was, they enlisted 
him as a drummer, and gave him the right to wear the 
blue. From then he was known as ''Johnny Shiloh." At 
Chickamauga he distinguished himself still more grandly, and 
won the imperishable name of " The Drummer Boy of Chicka- 
mauga." 

This stripling was not satisfied with a drum. He wanted to 
fight. Full of pluck and that courage which makes heroes, he 
demanded a musket. To comply with his desire a gun had to 
be cut down to his diminutive size, so that he could load it. On 
the 33d of September, 1863, armed with this shortened musket 
and seated on the caisson of a light battery, he was whirled to 
the front of battle once more, and permitted to take his place 
as a soldier in the ranks. In the midst of the leaden hail that 
followed he worked his little musket for all it was worth. His 
command was in a tight place and was forced back toward 
Chattanooga. The brigade attempted to make a stand and was 
surrounded by the enemy. Little Johnny had not been able to 
get back, as fast as the men, and in the advancing line of rebels 
rode a rebel colonel. The latter, sword in air, called to the boy 
to surrender, applying a foul epithet to him. Johnny had that 
morning told his comrades that he would never surrender, and 
he hadn't changed his mind it seems, for he pulled up the short- 
ened musket and sent a bullet through the rebel heart. As 
the colonel tumbled from his saddle they charged over little 
Johnny's prostrate body, horse, foot, and dragoons. This was 
a good thing for little Johnny, though he probably didn't ap- 
preciate it at the moment. While the rest of his command 
were killed or captured he got up after nightfall and made his 
way to Chattanooga. He got three bullet holes through his 
cap that day. General Rosecrans made him a sergeant and 
placed him on the roll of honor for that day's work. 

He was now but twelve years of age and had participated in 
the battles of Perryville, Stone River, Kenesaw Mountain, 
Resaca, Nashville, and every important operation of the Army 
of the Cumberland. He was captured shortly after the battle 
of Chickamauga, and was paroled in sixty days and sent to 
Camp Chase for exchange. When he reached the Union lines 
he found Pop Thomas in command. The latter made him an 



110 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



orderly sergeant and attached him to his staff. At Atlanta, 
while delivering a dispatch to General Logan, his pony was 
shot under him and a bullet took effect in Johnny's shoulder. 
His lack of education and age alone stood between young Clem 
and a commission. At the close of the war he went to Indian- 
apolis and began to qualify himself for a cadetship. To this 
Grant afterward appointed him. But he failed at West Point. 
While other boys had been at school, Johnny had been fighting 
in the field. He was appointed to the army from civil life, has 
served in the field on the frontier since and has been promoted 
to captain and assistant quartermaster. He is still boyish- 
looking, small of stature, and, in spite of the flattery and honors 
heaped upon him, as modest a young man as ever wore 
regimentals. 



FIRST WAR MEETING AT GALENA, ILL 

PRESIDED OVER BY GRANT. 

Related by His Townsman and Neighbor, E. B. Washburn. 



WALKED home with General 
Grant from the first war meeting 
which was held at Galena, and 
over which the general presided. 
He said to me : " I am going into this 
thing. I am going to begin at tlie foot 
of the ladder, I am acquainted with 
the governor of Ohio, and I am going 
to write to him to-night and ask him to 
give me a commission." I asked him 
why he did not apply to Governor Yates. 
He replied that he knew Ohio's gov- 
ernor and should write to him. Before 
his application was answered I was in 
Springfield, and Governor Yates said to 
me : " We have got men enough and 
money enough, but we have ,no one 
here to organize ; we need a military 
man here." To which I replied : " We 
have got just the very man up at 
Galena that you want." " Who is he ? " 
" Captain Grant," " AYho is Captain 



Grant?" I explained that he was a 
graduate of West Point and had seen 
service in the Mexican war. " Send 
Captain Grant down here," was the 
reply. While Grant was at work at the 
duty assigned him the colonel of a 
regiment came in one day and said that 
he could do nothing with his men and 
offered to resign in Grant's favor if he 
would take command of it. Grant 
went out to see the regiment, and, being 
satisfied that the men were full of fight 
and would make good soldiers, accepted 
the command. Instead of taking his 
soldiers from Springfield to Quincy by 
rail, he marched them on foot, and by 
the time they reached their destination 
they knew they had no militia colonel 
to deal with. Then followed Belmont, 
Donelson, Shiloh, and those other vic- 
tories which have placed Grant's name 
with the highest of the world's heroes. 




BATTLE OF ANTIETAM. 

Sept. 17, 1802. 
A CRITICAL MOMENT FOR THE CONFEDERATES, 

By OENERAL LONQSTREEX. 

S— ^ ■J^ > - -< ^V cs— I 

|HE Federals fought with wonderful bravery and the 
Confederates clung to their ground with heroic 
courage as, hour after hour, they were mown down 
like grass. The fresh troops of McClellan literally 
tore into shreds the already ragged army of Lee, but 
the Confederates never gave back. 

I remember at one time they were surging up against us with 
fearful numbers. I was occupying the left over by Hood, whose 
ammunition gave out. He retired to get a fresh supply. Soon 
after, the Federals moved up against us in great masses. 

We were under the crest of a hill, occupying a position that 
ought to have been held by from four to six brigades. The 
only troops there were Cooke's regiment of North Carolina In- 
fantry, without a cartridge. As I rode along the line with my 
staff, I saw two pieces of the Washington Artillery (Miller's 
Battery), but there were not enough men to man them. The 
gunners had been either killed or wounded. This was a fear- 
ful situation for the Confederate center. I put my staff-officers 
to the guns while I held their horses. It was easy to see that 
if the Federals broke through our line there, the Confederate 
army would be cut in two and probably destroyed, for we were 
already badly whipped and were only holding our ground from 
sheer desperation. Cooke sent me word that his ammunition 
was out. I replied that he must hold his position as long as he 
had a man left. He responded that he would show his colors 
as long as there was a man alive to hold them up. We loaded 
up our little guns with canister and sent a rattle of hail into the 
Federals as they came up over the crest of the hill. 



112 CAMP AND FIELD. 

There was more business to the square inch in that little bat- 
tery than in any I ever saw, and it shot harder and faster and 
with a sort of human energy as it seemed to realize that it was 
to hold the thousands of Federals at bay or the battle was lost. 
So warm was the reception we gave them that they dodged 
back behind the crest of the hill. V7e sought to make them be- 
lieve we had many batteries before them instead of only two 
little guns. As the Federals would come up they would see the 
colors of the North Carolina regiment waving placidly, and 
then would receive a shower of canister. We made it lively 
while it lasted. In the mean time General Chilton, General 
Lee's chief of staff, made his way to me and asked, "Where 
are the troops you are holding your line with?" I pointed to 
my two pieces and to Cooke's regiment, and replied, ''There 
they are; but that regiment hasn't a cartridge." 

Chilton's eyes popped as though they would come out of his 
head, he struck spurs to his horse and away he went to General 
Lee. I suppose he made some remarkable report, although I 
did not see General Lee again until night. 



Sheridan's Kox Hunt. 

ADAM BADEAU. 




URING the winter General Sher- hounds. A pack of hounds was found 
idan remained near Winchester, and a day set for the chase. The 
but as soon as the roads and the hounds were brought into Winchester, 
rains ' allowed. Grant directed the horses were shod, and all the talk 
M him to push once more up the val- of the country around was of Slieri- 
(S ley — this time not to return. He dan's hunt. On the appointed day the 
was to advance in the direction of whole neighborhood came to the meet- 
Richmond, destroying the railroads in the general and his staff conspicuous- 
every direction, as well as all stores The start was made and the run was 
that could possibly be of use 1;o the good, but the general and staff went 
enemy. In order to conceal his pur- further than the Virginians, and the 
pose, Sheridan resorted to one of those army followed. They rode after the 
ingenious devices in which he was un- enemy and never returned. The strat- 
rivaled since the days of Hannibal, agem had kept all the news of 
He learned ' that the people of the Sheridan's intentions secret, as all his 
neighborhood were fond of hunting, preparations were attributed to the 
and encouraged his staff to make their hunt, and he was far on his way before 
acquaintance and talk of foxes and the wile was discovered. 












1-4. ■VU, 







The Battle of Antietam. 



iae2. 



The Fearless Hooker.— Buruside and tlie 9th Corps Immortalized.— Sumner 
luviucible.— McClellau Hesitates. 



By REV. THEO. GERRISH, SOth Maine. 





"" ' jjrPON the morning of September 17, 1862, the 
1^ rebels before Antietam had brilliant expec- 
tations. The delay of our commanding gene- 
ral in not pressing battle has enabled General 
Lee to add the victorious column of Jackson and 
Lawton, from Harper's Ferry to his army, so that he 
confronted the Union forces with 100,000 men. His 
left wing is commanded by Jackson, his right by Longstreet, 
and his center by A. P. Hill. He has position in his favor, for, 
to reach them, the Union army under McClellan must cross the 
deep Antietam creek and storm the heights beyond. There are 
no means of crossing possible save by three bridges, which are 
heavily enfiladed by rebel artillery and infantry. General 
Hooker had carried the upper bridge near Hagerstown the 
afternoon before, and now after sleeping on his arms his gal- 
lant men with moving column and waving banners early open 
the fray. Two batteries supported by strong lines of infantry, 
advance from the woods into the cornfield, and the enemy at- 
tempt to seize the guns. It is a bloody reception. Back and 
forth the lines advance and recede; first one and then the 
other, victor. Whole lines melt away in the terrible carnage. 
A full hour the conflict rages, and then the rebel lines fall back 
amid the cheer of Union troops. Stonewall Jackson has found 
in Joe Hooker his match for desperate daring. Hooker's tall 
form, mounted upon his gray steed, had been for an hour in the 
thickest of the fight. General Meade's Penn. Reserves now 
move forward to follow up the advantage. They charge across 



114 CAMP AND FIELD. 

the field, slippery with blood, to the woods where the rebels had 
disappeared. Great God, what a reception! The forest seemed 
to yawn and vomit forth a volcano of leaden fire; they reel and 
stagger under that fearful tempest. Brigades are reduced to 
regiments in a moment, and soon the re-enforced enemy charge 
back and hurl Meade from the field. It is a critical moment; a 
staff officer dashes to Doubleday with the order, " Send me 
your best brigade instantly," and Hartsuff's brigade, composed 
mostly of Massachusetts troops, double quick to the field, and in 
a wild and fearless manner charge upon the exultant foe. 
They struck the rebel line, seemingly five-fold stronger than 
they, with terrific force and it recoiled before them. They 
threw themselves upon the ground and for thirty minutes held 
the rebels at bay; then with exhausted ammunition. Hartsuff's 
line springs to its feet and rolls the enemy back to the woods 
from which they had assaulted the column of General Meade. 
'Tis now 10 A. M., and, with four hours of carnage, no advan- 
tage has been gained by either side. Hooker's entire command 
is now moving for a grand and desperate effort. Hooker is at 
the front! Regiments, brigades, and divisions swing into line at 
the double quick. The hillside flames with fire. A terrific roar 
fills the air. Clouds of sulphurous smoke cover the scene and 
the ground shakes as with the agony of a great struggle. Hooker 
is wounded and borne from the field, and the enemy, re-enforced 
from the center, is crowding hard. General Sumner at an op- 
portune moment assumes command, and in the thickest of the 
fight leads bravely on. The enemy meets shock after shock with 
invincible daring and soon the wavering Union lines give up 
the field. It is now past noon, and while Sumner is invincible to 
attack his force is too much reduced for assault. Just then the 
welcome sight of troops moving from the Hagerstown bridge 
greets the commander's eye, and a few moments later General 
Franklin's corps is there to his support. Smith's Maine and 
Vermont brigade retake the ground and like a holocaust sweep 
everything from the field and the woods before them. It is 
done and well done; a glorious victory, in which all must share. 
Down on the left the gallant Burnside had been doing noble 
work also. The 9th Corps had slept on the ridge overlooking 
the stone bridge, and at 9 a. m., Burnside in person led the as- 
sault. It was fearful. They reached the bridge amidst hun- 
dreds of bursting shells, while 20,000 muskets poured in their 



CAMP AND FIELD, 115 

fire of death. They cross; deploy; form line of battle; dash up 
the hill; retreat, surge back and forth; join in a hand to hand 
conflict, and though the enemy have all the advantage, his 
first line is at length carried at the point of the bayonet. There 
is another terrific struggle; another death embrace, and at 
length another tumultuous yell rolls up the line and tells that 
Burnside's men have carried the heights. Again bursts forth a 
terrific fire at the right, but it soon dies out before the victorious 
Union host; but the lifeless form of the brave Mansfield is 
carried to the rear. Lee seeing his right to be the point of 
greatest danger, orders A. P. Hill there; but he arrives too late 
to save Longstreet from defeat. That position must be regained 
at any cost is the word from Lee. Burnside sees the gathering 
host, and a foaming steed dashes to McClellan with the word, 
" send me men and guns, and I will sweep all before me, but I 
cannot hold this position without re-enforcements." Fitz John 
Porter, with 20,000 men who as yet have only smelt the pow- 
der, stands ready for the order. To give it means the over- 
throw of Longstreet and Hill; the seizure of the Potomac fords, 
and the capture of Lee's army. McClellan hesitates. Oh, for 
one hour of Grant or the dashing Phil Sheridan! Rise, Mc- 
Clellan, to the greatness of your opportunity, and hurl the 
traitor army to the wall. Alas! too timid, and too weak! The 
word goes back, "Tell Burnside to hold on; it is the greatest 
battle of the war; I have no infantry to send; if he is driven 
back, he must hold the bridge, for if we lose that we lose all. 
'Tis a fatal mistake. Burnside is overpowered and slowly but 
obstinately relinquishes the field. He holds the bridge and 
darkness ends the conflict. Lee sees the handwriting upon 
the wall; and what he cannot gain by fighting, he gains by 
cunning. An armistice must be had to bury the dead, and 
while this progresses the defeated rebel army skulks away and 
gain the fords of the Potomac, and the Union army curses the 
powers that be which after a sacrifice of 2,010 killed, and 9,416 
wounded, robs them of the blood bought fruits of their victory. 



Lee Troubled by Meade.— General Cheapest Victory.— The cheapest 

Lee said that General Meade had given victory ever won on the battle field 

him as much or more trouble than any was the battle of Darbeytown Road, 

other general. Oct. 7, 1864. 



i 



The Artillery Duel at Antietam. 



SEPT. 17, 1862. 

H. H. BOWLES, CO. C, 6th IVIaine. 

^^t<^^ 




NE of the most fearful artillery duels at 
short range that I ever witnessed occurred 
at the immediate right of the cornfield at 
Antietam on the morning of September 17, 
18G2. In that giant struggle for the mastery on 
that fearful field in the long ago, when division 
after division of the Union army was swept away in rapid suc- 
cession by fighting at close quarters, when charge was met by 
counter charge, where Mansfield, Hooker, and Richardson 
were killed or wounded ere the sun had scarce risen, and 
Sedgwick's division in turn was sent hustling back in wild 
disorder, — it was just at this time that our brigade (Hancock's) 
came in on the double quick, meeting Sedgwick's division 
falling back. We were composed of the 6th Me., 5th Wis., 43d 
N. Y., and 49th Penn. It was a fearfully hot day, and we had 
been running all the morning to get on the field, and as we 
came up upon the double quick through a piece of timber, to 
the east of the cornfield, by the right flank, we saw abundant 
evidence of the rout or disaster of Sedgwick's division. The 
woods and fields were full of stragglers and wounded men. 
Cannon shot and shell were flying in all directions. It seemed 
as though the air was alive with missiles of destruction. Gen- 
eral Sumner came riding up, bare-headed, his long, white hair 
streaming in the wind, his tall form erect, and gave some 
orders in a clear, distinct voice. Our brigade formed quickly 
into line and advanced to the edge of the cornfield and lay 
down, where the ground fell off considerably, so that we were 
partially covered, expecting every moment to be ordered to 
charge. As we came out of the field we passed Captain Frank's 
N. Y. battery on our immediate right in position, and " bellow- 



CAMP AND FIELD, 117 

ing like mad." They were five-inch Napoleon guns. The can- 
noneers, many of them, were working with their sleeves rolled 
up, and some of them bare to the skin to their waist, and were 
black and grim with powder and smoke. The guns were vom- 
iting forth grape and canister, double shotted at every dis- 
charge, and fairly leaped from their position at every shot. 
They were making a perfect hell of every inch of ground in 
front and on either flank. I never witnessed such rapid firing 
or saw guns worked as they were. Captain Frank was riding 
back and forth calling for supports for his battery, for, as we 
came up, his battery was wholly unsupported. In our immedi- 
ate front the ground was literally covered with dead and dying. 
The gray coats of the Confederates were thickly mingled with 
the blue of the Union dead. The green coats of the U. S. sharp- 
shooters and the red trousers and embroidered jackets of the 
14th Brooklyn lay thickly among the corn hills, and along 
by the rail fence were whole windrows of dead of both blue and 
gray. The sunken road was filled with dead and dying. Way 
over by the edge of the field nearest the Union lines, by the 
east wood, lay the body of a rebel colonel shot all to pieces. 
The rebel sharpshooters were posted in the tree-tops in the west 
woods, and were picking off our men one by one. Little 
Charlie King — a bright eyed, dark-haired drummer boy of the 
49th Penn., about twelve years of age, and the favorite of his 
regiment — was standing behind me, when a minie ball pierced 
his breast and he fell into my arms calling the name of his 
mother. The wound did not cause death at the time so we 
took him to the rear and gave him in charge of the surgeon. 
But we could not wait and leaving him in gentle hands we 
hurried back to the front with our comrades. The deep boom- 
ing of cannon went on, and hilltop answered hilltop with 
thunder, flame, and smoke. As I watched the working of these 
batteries, the rapid firing, the wonderful precision of their shots. 
I could but think of Marshal Ney at Waterloo, when assault- 
ing the English squares, struck with admiration for the English 
batteries in his front, he paused and gave them the military 
salute. The day wore on and gradually the firing ceased as 
by mutual consent, and the enemy were again compelled to 
retreat into Virginia and to their old lines across the Rappahan- 
nock. 



Night on the Field of Fredericksburg. 

GEN. J. L. CHAMBERLAIN, LL. D., Ex-President Bowdoiii College, Me. 





NWARD time moves. Many years have passed 
since " Fredericksburg," Of what then was 
not much is left but memory. Faces and 
forms of men and things that then were 
have changed — perchance to dust. New 
life has covered some; the rest look but lin- 
gering farewells. 
But, whatever changes may beautify those storm-swept and 
barren slopes, there is one character from which they can never 
pass. Death-gardens, haunted by glorious ghosts, they must 
abide. No bloom can there unfold which does not wear the 
rich token of the inheritance of heroic blood; no breeze be 
wafted that does not bear the breath of the immortal life there 
breathed away. 

Of all that splendid but unavailing valor no one has told the 
story; nor can I. The pen has no wing to follow where that 
sacrifice and devotion sped their flight. But memory may rest 
down on some night-scenes, too quiet and somber with shadow 
to be vividly depicted, and yet which have their interest from 
very contrast with the tangled and lurid lights of battle. 

The desperate charge was over. We had not reached the 
enemy's fortifications, but only that fatal crest where we had 
seen five lines of battle mount but to be cut to earth as by a 
sword-swoop of fire. We had that costly honor which some- 
times falls to the " reserve " — to go in when all is havoc and 
confusion, through storm and slaughter, to cover the broken 
and depleted ranks of comrades and take the battle from their 
hands. Thus we had replaced the gallant few still struggling 



CAMP AND FIELD. 119 

on the crest, and received that withering fire, which nothing 
could withstand, by throwing ourselves flat in a slight hollow 
of the ground, within pistol shot of the enemy's works; and, 
mingled with the dead and dying that strewed the field, we re- 
turned the fire till it reddened into night, and at last fell away 
through darkness into silence. 

But out of that silence from the battle's crash and roar rose 
new sounds more appalling still; rose or fell, you knew not 
which, or whether from the earth or air; a strange ventrilo- 
quism, of which you could not locate the source, a smothered 
moan that seemed to come from distances beyond reach of the 
natural sense, a wail so far and deep and wide, as if a thousand 
discords were flowing together into a key-note weird, unearthly, 
terrible to hear and bear, yet startling with its nearness; the 
writhing concord broken by cries for help, pierced by shrieks 
of paroxysm; some begging for a drop of water; some calling 
on God for pity; and some on friendly hands to finish what the 
enemy had so horribly begun; some with delirious, dreamy 
voices murmuring loved names, as if the dearest were bending 
over them; some gathering their last strength to fire a musket 
to call attention to them where they lay helpless and deserted: 
and underneath, all the time, that deep bass note from closed 
lips too hopeless or too heroic to articulate their agony. 

Who could sleep, or who would? Our position was isolated 
and exposed. Officers must be on the alert with their com- 
mand. But the human took the mastery of the official; sym- 
pathy of soldiership. Command could be devolved; but pity, 
not. So with a staff officer I sallied forth to see what we could 
do where the helpers seemed so few. Taking some observa- 
tions in order not to lose the bearing of our own position, we 
guided our steps by the most piteous of the cries. Our part was 
but little; to relieve a painful posture; to give a cooling draught 
to fevered lips; to compress a severed artery, as we had learned 
to do, though in bungling fashion; to apply a rude bandage, 
which yet might prolong the life to saving; to take a token or 
farewell message for some stricken home; it was but little, yet 
it was an endless task. We had moved towards the right and 
rear of our own position — the part of the field immediately 
above the city. The farther we went the more the need 
deepened, and the calls multiplied. Numbers half wakening 
from the lethargy of death, or of despair, by sounds of succor, 



120 CAMP AND FIELD. 

begged us to take them quickly to a surgeon; and when we 
could not do that, imploring us to do the next most merciful 
service and give them quick dispatch out of their misery. 
Right glad were we when, after midnight, the shadowy ambu- 
lances came gliding along, and the kindly hospital stewards, 
with stretchers and soothing appliances, let us feel that we 
might return to our proper duty. 

And now we were aware of other figures wandering, ghost- 
like, over the field. Some on errands like our own, drawn by 
compelling appeals; some seeking a lost comrade, with uncer- 
tain steps amidst the unknown, and ever and anon bending 
down to scan the pale visage closer, or, it may be, by the light 
of a brief match, whose blue, flickering flame scarcely can give 
the features a more recognizable or more human look; some 
man, desperately wounded, yet seeking, with faltering step, 
before his fast ebbing blood shall have left him too weak to 
move, some quiet or sheltered spot out of sound of the terrible 
appeals he could neither answer nor endure, or out of reach of 
the raging battle coming with the morning; one creeping, yet 
scarcely moving, from one lifeless form to another, if, per- 
chance, he might find a swallow of water in the canteen still 
swung from the dead soldier's side; or another, as with just re- 
turning or just remaining consciousness, vainly striving to rise 
from a mangled heap, that he may not be buried with them 
while yet alive; or some man, yet sound of body, but pacing 
feverishly his ground because in such a bivouac his spirit could 
not sleep. And so we picked our way back, amidst the stark, 
upturned faces, to our little living line. 

The night chill had now woven a misty veil over the field. 
Fortunately, a picket fence we had encountered in our charge 
from the town had compelled us to abandon our horses, and so 
had saved our lives on the crest; but our overcoats had been 
strapped to the saddles, and we missed them now. Most of the 
men, however, had their overcoats or blankets — we were glad 
of that. Except the few sentries along the front, the men had 
fallen asleep — the living with the dead. At last, outwearied 
and depressed with the desolate scene, my own strength sunk, 
and I moved two dead men a little and lay down between them, 
making a pillow of the breast of a third. The skirt of his over- 
coat drawn over my face helped also to shield me from the 
bleak winds. There was some comfort even in this companion- 



CAMP AND FIELD, 121 

ship. But it was broken sleep. The deepening chill drove 
many forth to take the garments of those who could no longer 
need them, that they might keep themselves alive. More than 
once I was startled from my unrest by some one turning back 
the coat-skirt from my face, peering, half vampire-like, to my 
fancy, through the darkness, to discover if it too were of the 
silent and unresisting; turning away more disconcerted at my 
living word than if a voice had spoken from the dead. 

Having held our places all the night, we had to keep to them 
all the more closely the next day, for it would be certain death 
to attempt to move away. As it was, it was only by making 
breastworks and barricades of the dead men that covered the 
field that we saved any alive. We did what we could to take 
a record of these men. A testament that had fallen from the 
breast pocket of the soldier who had been my pillow, I sent soon 
after to his home — he was not of my command — and it proved 
to be the only clue his parents ever had to his fate. 

The next midnight, after thirty-six hours of this harrowing 
work, we were bidden to withdraw into the town for refresh- 
ment and rest. But neither rest nor motion was to be thought 
of till we had paid fitting honor to our dead. We laid them on 
the spot which they had won, on the sheltered edge of the crest, 
and committed their noble forms to the earth, and their story 
to their country's keeping. 

We buried them darkly, at dead of night. 
The sod with our bayonets turning. 

Splinters of boards torn by shot and shell from the fences we 
had crossed served as headstones, each name hurriedly carved 
under brief match lights, anxiously hidden from the foe. It 
was a strange scene around that silent and shadowy sepulture. 
'' We will give them a starlight burial," it was said; but heaven 
ordained a more sublime illumination. As we bore them in 
dark and sad procession, their own loved North took up the 
escort, and lifting all her glorious lights led the triumphal 
march over the bridge that spans the worlds — an aurora 
borealis of marvelous majesty! fiery lances and banners of 
blood and flame, columns of pearly light, garlands and wreaths 
of gold, all pointing upward and beckoning on. Who would 
not pass on as they did, dead for their country's life, and lighted 
to burial by the meteor splendors of their native sky? 



The * Last * Night « at * Frederlchhurg. 

GEN. J. L. CHAMBERLAIN, LL. D., EX.-PRES. BOWDOIN COLLEGE. 



.►^-x->5 



:-<-)t-t:$<- 



,FTER a day of what was 
'tf*^. called rest from the stress 
of battle, but really of 
confusion and solicitude, a 
broken bivouac on the pave- 
ment in the town, amidst the 
enemy's shells crashing 
through the roofs and walls, 
by turns dreaming or wakefully 
expecting that Lee would take 
advantage of our situation to 
strike our right flank and drive 
us into the river, we had man- 
aged at dark to sink into a 
dismal sort of sleep. 

But suddenly we were sum- 
moned — three regiments — to 
move forth to some unknown 
service. Picking our way 
amidst the terrible relics of the 
battle up to that fatal front 
again, we found here, mingled 
with the thick-strewn dead, 
and scarcely to be distin- 
guished from them, a thin line 
of our troops, lying flat on 
their faces and fairly shivering 
with apprehension. And with 
reason. For it was not sol- 
dierly qualities alone that were 



tj^=-^^"^~ -= =^'^i^-i=. 




tested by that experience. So 
far out beyond support, with 
only the ghastly lines of the 
dead behind, and the half- 
disembodied horrors around, 
scarcely more than a hundred 
yards from the enemy's fortifi- 
cations, the rifle-pits of their 
picket - line close in front, 
strange, stealthy movements 
heard at intervals, then lost in 
dismal gusts of wind, and the 
murky darkness wrapping all 
as with a shroud, a sense of 
strange defenselessness might 
naturally seize the mind, a 
feeling of lurking evil against 



CAMP AND FIELD. 123 

which all mortal weapons are vain. To be creeping about amidst 
these emblems of the satanic power to hurt, sure only that 
every living human being before you and perhaps around you 
is an enemy whose one object it is to compass your destruction 
— this is a situation and a business wherein the man of stoutest 
physical courage and the soldier of highest discipline may find 
that he has something of himself yet to learn. 

We knew now that our business was to picket the front above 
the town. Of the rest we knew nothing. The troops whom 
we relieved informed us with the extreme of frankness that 
just after dusk a whole brigade of ours had been " rushed off " 
from that spot, and the enemy had planted a battery so as to 
enfilade the position and sweep away the whole line at the first 
dawn; and also had been pushing up their picket-line and rifle- 
pits all the night close upon our own. Our friends bade us a 
significant good-by — a curious' mingling of emotion, half glad 
for themselves, half sad for us — and filed away silently down 
the slope. 

" Hold this ground at all hazards, and to the very last." This 
was the only order or instruction we received. It was a long 
stretch for us, and the men had to be stationed by the rule of 
few and far between. Groping cautiously about, we got hold 
of some picks and spades that were scattered around, and each 
man went to work with a will to settle himself into the ground; 
that seemed about the surest way to "hold it." Each few or 
each alone threw up a little earthwork covering their front and 
right, as a man would protect his head from a blow by raising 
his right elbow. It was the right especially that must be made 
strong, to guard against the expected shelling from that quar- 
ter, so that a shot striking in the line would not be likely to 
kill more than the men in any one pit. 

We worked in silence, speaking only in whisper, and with 
the least possible movement that might expose the person in 
relief against the sky, for, dark as it was, such a disclosure 
was sure to bring a shot. Often we were interrupted by vague 
alarms; the men would drop their spades, seize their muskets 
and sink on their knees, ready for the conjectured blow. 

We were anxious that the men should keep their true bear- 
ings, so as to throw the earth on the angle needing protection. 
My over-anxiety for this brought some sharp and unexpected 
warnings. Feeling along what I believed to be my line, I came 



124 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Upon a man settling himself into his pit with what seemed to 
me more diligence than judgment. " Throw to the other side, 
my man; that's where the trouble is," my undertone braced 
with the confidence of superior wisdom. " Don't ye s'pose I 
know where them Yanks be? They're right on to us nowl" 
was the imperturbable answer of the man, who, I was thankful 
to find, was thinking more of his own business than of mine. 
"Dig away then, and keep a sharp lookout for 'emi" was the 
somewhat rapidly enunciated reply, which advice I proceeded 
to put into prompt execution myself, after a figurative inter- 
pretation. 

The men had now got themselves pretty well secured when a 
sudden clatter came up from the left, and a voice called out, 
" Where is the officer commanding this line?" He was excited 
and evidently not enjoying his mission. " The whole army is 
across the river. Get out of this as quick as God will let youl " 
was his highly condensed message. "Who are you, sir?" I 
asked with severity not wholly feigned. He gave his name 
and rank on the staff. "Report yourself to your general in 
arrest!" was my return to him for this intelligence. " You're 
crazy," he rejoins; " you've got all you can do not to be gobbled 
up as it is!" The men who heard this were scrambling out of 
their pits. " Steady as you are, my men, this is a stampeding 
coward." Some of the officers came running up. "Arrest this 
man for a spy, and hold fast your lines," was my word to them. 
Order being restored in the line, I took the staff-officer aside for 
mutual explanation. He was wrought up to a high pitch by 
the strain of the long effort to find us, along that dark and per- 
ilous front. Repeating that our army was already across the 
river, and that he had been sent to direct us to the remaining 
pontoon bridge, he apologized for his rashness in delivering his 
message, on the plea that he did not know the enemy's pickets 
were so near; and in turn I explained the necessity of my 
rough treatment of him, to seem to contradict and countermand 
him, that the men on both sides, who must have distinctly 
heard him, might be kept in their places; that ours especially, 
should not huddle in confusion out of the shelter of their pits, 
and draw the enemy's fire, and perhaps an overwhelming 
attack upon us. 

With a manner intended to reassure their justly troubled 
minds, the situation of things and the plan of proper retiring 



OAMP AND FIELI>. 125 

were made known to the men. The movement was quickly or- 
ganized and executed. Each alternate man was to stay fast in 
his pit and dig more demonstratively than ever, while the 
others, each company in charge of its second officer, should 
noiselessly retire to the nearest advantageous ground and form 
in extended order faced to the front, and there stand until the 
remaining line should in like manner have taken position in 
their rear, when they in turn were to retire behind this second 
line. In that way we could at least prevent the enemy from 
following us up too recklessly and could come off the field in 
good order. 

Those who were the last to evacuate the rifle-pits had to use 
caution, trailing their pieces, and with anything but the sol- 
dier's erect bearing. We had fallen back but a few yards when 
the black flying clouds broke apart in rifts, and the moonlight 
struck us into full view and the gleam of the musket barrels 
made us for the moment a shining mark. "To the ground, 
every man of you," and they fell flat and motionless at the 
word. From that time we had to watch the favoring obscurity 
of the flying clouds. We, too, had caught a glimpse of the 
enemy creeping forward from their rifle-pits and were aware 
that they were following us, though perhaps in their ignorance 
of the field and of the meaning of our movements, quite as 
scared as we were; and possibly not wholly callous to the 
appalling images of havoc through which we had to pass. 
Mangled forms, rent and tossed as if the maddened beasts of 
the arena had run riot among them; limbs flung from their 
bodies and half trampled into the bloody mire; grim faces, 
stark and stiff^ into which the light of the waning moon struck 
a more than deadly pallor — a phantom light as of something 
neither dead nor living, with a fixedness that was more than 
stillness; open eyes that saw not, but seemed to see more than 
human; hands that still grasped their muskets with a clutch no 
living strength could loosen; the ghostly gleam of the scattered 
musket barrels weaving an unearthly web, or a bright sword- 
blade flashing back as if still swung by the valorous arm that 
had given it life for its deadly stroke. Phantasmal martyr- 
pyres, the heaped, incongruous ruins of a lost battery — horses, 
cannoneers, dismounted guns, splintered ammunition chests, 
crushed wheels, overturned carriages, the tongue erect in air, 
the pole-yokes swinging gibbet-like on high, looming suddenly 



126 CAMP AND FIELD. 

on you with a shuddering light, then vanishing as from the 
earth, when the swift dragon-cloud smites the face of the moon, 
and blackened night swallows up the hideous scene. All save 
where on the far edge of the field some solitary lantern sways 
and sails, like the weird, hovering will-o'-the-wisp, while un- 
wearying love seeks still the living lost among the dead. 

Midway in our course we passed a house around which terri- 
ble slaughter had raged, the wrecks still lying where they fell. 
I remember but too well how the night wind shrieked and 
howled about the desolate walls and rooms, — a voice as of in- 
numerable spirits that could not rise, — while some swinging 
door or blind sounded like the flapping wings of the demon of 
doom. I do not think there has ever been a moment in my life 
since when the sound of that wind has been out of my ears. 

We were able by our orderly movement, however hurried, to 
bring off such of the wounded as we encountered on the aban- 
doned field. At the bridge-head we gathered and waited a 
little for all that should pass over before us; and lingered still, 
as if loath to turn away, held back by a sigh of the night wind, 
like the last wail of the stricken field, that took the breath from 
our bosoms and the strength from our limbs. 

But the rain fell now in torrents; the bridge-boats creaked as 
the swelling current rushed by; the narrow plankway, bedded 
with earth to deaden sound, stretched out into the darkness, 
beckoning us to noiseless passage, as from world to world. 
For a little while it swayed beneath our tread; men stood by 
the anchor lines, a few lingered at the further fastenings. ' ' Cut 
the guys! " the last order fell; the great pontoons swung to the 
hither shore, and the river ran, cold and dark, between us and 
our dead that had died in vain. 

GREATEST LOSS. PLUCK AT STONE RIVER. 



j^jVI/ The l.st Maine Heavy Artillery It was Gen. Wm. B. Hazen's 

ai|S Regiment lost more men in killed command that saved the army 

'"^"- and died of womids than any and the day at the battle of 

other regiment, 18.8 per cent., the 2d Stone River or Murfreesboro', Dec. 31, 

Wisconsin comes next with 17.5 per 1862. His brigade was the only one 

cent., and the 140th Pennsylvania next that held its position unchanged dur- 

with 16.4 per cent. ing the fight. 



Life at Chattanooga During the Siege. 



KXJN IN CAIVLP. 



B. S. BATCHELOR, Company I, 2d Minnesota. 




%»*.W\.\\XV^\\XVvX\X%.\W\'-: 



• V\\XCSX\\X\\X\\V\\V\\\.\\XV 





Nthe fall of 1864, not 

long after the battle 

of Chickamauga, the 

2d Minn, was camped 
on a small rise of ground near 
the four large hospitals that 
were built by the Confederacy 
and afterward occupied by our 
army. The rebels had a piece 
of artillery planted on Look- 
out Mountain, which they had 
named the Lady Davis, and it 
made it lively for us a good 
many times. If there were a 
group of men collected, the Lady Davis would be pretty sure to 
pay her compliments by way of a shot or a shell. As a number 
of the comrades of my company were playing marbles, quite a 
number of the boys gathered around and became interested in 
the game, when a souvenir in the shape of a solid shot came 
from the mountain without any warning. It passed just above 
our heads, and made a flying visit to a small camp-fire just back 
of us, where a German of our company was making a cup of 
coffee of two days' rations, which consisted of about two table- 
spoonfuls, and all he would get until the next issue. The ball 
struck in the fire under the coffee-kettle. That coffee-kettle 
shot up in the air like a sky-rocket, and the little camp-fire was 
no more. But there stood the German covered with dirt and 
ashes, and so mad that he did not know what his name was. 
He soon recovered and swore in three different languages at 
the same time. He was angry enough to go up on old Lookout 



128 CAMP AND FIELI). 

Mountain and throw that gun into the Tennessee river. But, 
as time is a great soother, he got over his passion and laughed 
with the rest of us, and was thankful that no greater damage 
was done. The kettle came down with the smell of coffee yet 
lingering about its precious sides. 

As our communications between Nashville and Chattanooga 
at that time were often interrupted, our rations were very 
small, and soap was a luxury almost unknown. When general 
inspection was ordered, how to present clean faces and hands 
without soap was a problem hard to solve. At ten o'clock on one 
morning of inspection the boys fell into line with guns and 
equipments in splendid condition, but I cannot say as much of 
our clothes and faces. Comrade Claude Pritchard must have 
lovingly caressed the camp-kettle before falling in; for one 
side of his face was as black as possible, while the other side 
was comparatively clean. As the order was given, " Right 
dress!" Sergeant Bending said, ''What nigger is that in our 
company?" And as he presented the black side of his face to 
the front, the captain said, "Pritchard, go and wash your 
face." Pritchard disappears with alacrity into his tent. In a 
very short space of time his head reappears from his tent with 
his face as black as ever, and very distinctly says, "Captain, 
have you got any soap?" The inspecting officer took one look 
and laughed aloud. The laugh was contagious, and we were 
soon all in a roar. The captain said, " Sergeant Bending, take 
that man to the guard-house!" and this ended the fun for that 
day. Pritchard was a faithful soldier, and I hope he fares now 
better than he did then. 



GREAT TURNING POINT. GLOOMY DAYS. 

John E. Cooke (Confederate). 

tHE long struggle culminating at ^^RAMP — Are you a Grand Army 

Gettysburg ended as completely '^^^ man? 
'™^ as if Lee had laid down his arms ^ Gentleman — Yes. 
there. After the repulse at Cemetery Tramp — Could you help a poor fellow 

Hill the event of the war was decided, who lost his leg during the war ? 
and any commander of respectable Gentleman (giving him ten cents) — 

ability niight have achieved the results What regiment did you belong to ? 
of 1864 and 1865. Gettysburg was the Tramp — Not any, sir. I was run 

great turning point of the war, and the down by a beer wagon a day or two 

commander of the Federal forces there, after the battle of Fair Oaks. Those 

General Meade, was a soldier indeed. were gloomy days, sir. 



FISRING aP TORPEBOES 

PLANTED BY THE REBELS IN RED RIVER. 



Fearful Explosion which Hurled the Picker-Up Two Hundred Feet. 



By S. E>. R. 



i- Cs< *-o — ^■—5-= 



WAS among others detailed from 
the Federal steamer " Mononga- 
hela," to search the Red river be- 
tween the Tensar and the Missis- 
sippi, for the torpedoes which had been 
planted by the Confederates. These 
torpedoes wei-e of all makes, shapes, and 
sizes, from a pork barrel half-full of 
powder, to be fired by electricity from 
the shore, to a glass demijohn holding 
ten pomids, to be exploded by contact. 
Some were on the surface, some just 
under it, and some on the bottom. We 
went out in fours to hunt for these 
terrifiers, each boat being provided 
with grapnels, nets, boat-hooks, and 
whatever else was needed for fishing up 
the monsters. We had to exercise 
great caution, for the channel was 
tortuous and no one could guess at 
what point we would come aci'oss a tor- 
pedo. The woods were shelled two or 
three times a day by our gunboats, but 
the Confederate swamp-cats were by no 
means driven out. They had every 
chance to secrete themselves, and we 
realized that if we came upon an elec- 
tric torpedo we ran every risk of being 
blown sky-high. 



We had been at work three or four 
days and had fished up seven or eight 
ugly-looking fellows, when we got into 
a part of the channel which ran within 
fifty feet of the right bank. A colored 
man who had been lying in the swamps 
for several weeks waiting for deliver- 
ance, mformed us that he had observed 
men planting something in this bend 
two weeks before. He thought there 
were wires leading to the swamp, but 
we scouted about for a couple of hours 
without being able to find that such 
was the case. The bank was a dense 
jungle in which one thousand men 
could have concealed themselves. 

About an hour after dinner we moved 
up and began grappling in the bend. 
The boat turned her bow down sti'eara, 
threw over her grapnels, and two men 
used the oars to give her headway. We 
had not pulled fifty feet when the irons 
took hold, and I drew the boat back to 
the spot by means of the rope. Then, 
standing on the seat in the stern, I 
lifted at the obstruction, and it came 
slowly up. It had just appeared suffi- 
cient for me to make out that it was a 
boiler-iron torpedo, when there came an 



130 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



awful explosion. The same instant 
our boat was lifted high in air and 
broken to pieces, and I scarcely com- 
prehended what had occurred until I 
found myself in the water two hundred 
feet below the point of explosion. My 
hair, whiskers, and eyebrows were badly 
singed, and my clothing on fire, as I 
came down after the flight. While I 
had escaped, the other three were killed 
outright, and the wave created swamped 
a boat working a few hundred feet below 
us and drowned one of her crew. 



While swimming for this capsized 
boat, a man stood on the bank of the 
river and fired four shots at me from a 
revolver, and with the fifth he killed 
the colored man who had given the in- 
formation. The victim stood upon 
the bank, about midway between the 
two boats, and was shot through the 
head. . 

The torpedo was no doubt exploded 
by electricity, and the man who fired 
the shots was the operator who ex- 
ploded it. 



A PRKNIONITION, 

KILLED AT SAVAGE'S STATION. 

S. C. Gallup, 3d Vt. 



NE day, while encamped near the 
Chickahominy river, a member 
of our company earnestly de- 
clared in the presence of sev- 
eral comrades that he would be killed in 
the next battle. I cannot recall his 
name, though I remember distinctly 
his countenance and general appear- 
ance. On this day, the 29th, we rested 
near Savage's Station, on the railroad 
by which we had received our army 
supplies. The day was clear and hot. 
Exposed to a scorching sun, we waited, 
ready to fall in at a moment's notice. 
Within a few feet of our company was 
a large pile of ammunition, biirning 
and exploding. Some of the bullets 
and grape-shot were hurled within dan- 
gerous proximity to our regiment. As 
this pile was the property of our gov- 
ernment, it was an unpleasant reminder 
of the fact that our army was retreat- 
ing before an enemy eager to destroy us. 
On the other side of a cleared field in 
which we were resting were the tents of 
the general hospital, which were filled 



with our sick and wounded. Through 
a painful necessity, such of these as 
could not march would, in a few 
hours, fall into the hands of the enemy. 
Our division was left at Savage's Sta- 
tion to check the enemy. It was begin- 
ning to grow dark, when, according to 
orders, we fell in, faced to the rear, and 
advanced rapidly into a pine forest, 
and there formed line of battle. It 
was so dai'k that we could not see the 
rebel force which was approaching 
through the thick timber within mus- 
ket range. Suddenly there burst upon 
our view a long line of bright flashes, 
followed by a terrible roar of musketry 
and a shower of bullets, which came 
pouring into our lines. Ovir brigade 
held its position firmly, and gave the 
rebels such a warm reception that they 
soon ceased firing, and fell back. Thus 
ended the battle of Savage's Station. 
In this battle a member of our company 
was killed, and he was the soldier who 
had said that he would be killed in the 
next battle. 



BATTLE OF lUKA AND CORINTH. 



Sept. 21, 1862. 



How Rosecrans met the Confederates.— A Storm of Cannon Balls and Bullets. 

By p. C. FERGUSON, Lieut. Co. I, 43d Ohio. 





HE 31st of September, 1863, found Rosecrans in 
camp at Clear Creek, near Corinth, Mississippi. 
We had been there some time, battling with 
yellow jaundice and typhoid fever, when the Con- 
federate army, under Price, Van Dorn, and Lovell, 
made their appearance near Bear Creek. One 
bright Sabbath morning we struck tents, and 
started out on the Jacinto road, seven miles dis- 
tant from Corinth and about the same distance 
from luka Springs. 

General Grant was in command on the Bern- 
ville road, about the same distance from luka. 
The order from General Grant was to move up to within three 
miles of luka and bivouac for the night, but the enemy would 
not allow us in such close proximity. We were not far out of 
Jacinto when we encountered the enemy's pickets, and where we 
thought to camp for the night, we found the ground bitterly 
disputed. Van Dorn threw his division against us with so 
much fury that we wavered and fell back for a short distance. 
We rallied, and the ball opened in good earnest, the enemy 
being in turn driven back. The battle became fierce. A brass 
battery of the 1st Ohio had hardly gotten into position before 
the Confederates charged it. The men stood by their guns 
until they had not a horse and but few men left. At this in- 
stant the 11th Mo. Infantry came to their rescue and saved 
the battery. The possession of this battery seemed to be what 



132 CAMP AND FIELD, 

both sides were fighting for. as it was taken and retaken 
several times. For unknown reasons Grant did not move up 
on the right and we stood our ground about three hours before 
night stopped the carnage. The loss was about equal on each 
side. 

The following morning the brigade moved in line of battle, 
momentarily expecting to be engaged, but the enemy had fled 
leaving tents, camp equipage, and all. The following Friday, 
they began to drive the Union forces in on Corinth, The latter 
now consisted of the lOtli Army Corps, under Gen. W, S. 
Rosecrans. The enemy drove General Palmer's division all 
day Friday and Saturday, and gradually pushed us back to- 
wards our forts. Saturday, October 1, found the Union army 
disposed as follows: Palmer's division on the right. Stone's 
division on the left, with Davis in reserve, the Ohio brigade in 
support of Battery Robinet, a line of field guns, reaching 
almost from Battery Robinet to Fort Williams on the right, 
and still another small fort on the right of the railroad. 

Early on Sunday morning, before it was light, the enemy ran 
a battery up the road to within a short distance of Fort Robinet 
and began firing. I was on the picket line, a few rods in front 
of the fort. They made it warm for a short time, but when the 
sun came up clear and bright, the heavy artillery in the fort 
opened on the battery and disabled it in a twinkling. We 
went forward and pulled it in. All this time the enemy were 
evidently preparing for some bold move. About nine o'clock 
they emerged from the woods in solid column, and led by 
Colonel Rogers, of the od Texas Rangers, made a desperate 
charge on Fort Robinet, The artillery played havoc in their 
ranks, but on they came. By some mistake they were taken 
for our own men, and our brigade lay flat upon the ground 
until the enemy were actually within the fort, when the word 
was: "Fix bayonets, double quick, charge!" The Ohio brigade 
sprang to their feet and in a minute the fort was cleared and 
the enemy sent flying in all directions. Some few prisoners 
were taken and a great many more of the Confederates never 
returned to their comrades. 

The enemy next moved on our right and attacked Fort 
Williams. They made the grandest charge at that point that I 
ever witnessed, the charging column consisting of a brigade 
of Mississippi troops. They emerged from the roads in solid 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



133 



column, but our forts had a cross fire on them and mowed 
them down like grain before the sickle. Nevertheless, they 
closed up and moved on until they reached the fort. The fort 
was supported by Palmer's men, who failed to check them in tli^^ 
least. On they went right through the line of our artillery and 
men, right up to the town. Just when the day looked the 
brightest for the enemy, Davis's division, thus far held in re- 
serve, came down on them like an avalanche, and swept every- 
thing back. None escaped the steel of Davis's gallant men, who 
drove them right past the fort they had captured but a few 
moments before. On they went until they reached the wood, 
when they came to a halt and gradually fell back to our line. 
All this time General Rosecrans was watching the proceedings 
with intense interest and giving orders as circumstances re- 
quired. About four of that memorable day he came along the 
lines with his staff. Cheer after cheer went up from the men 
as General Rosecrans said, ''Boys, the day is ours and the 
enemy is flying." 



LOOKOUT N/LOUNTAIN. 

B. F. TAYLOR. 



gNe^ESPASIAN'S royal edifice 
jyC/p Whose world of ruin nursed 

"^^ his name, 

Would be a vestibule to this 

Great amphitheater of fame. 
Upon its parquet's rugged floors 
Lie cities of the noiseless doors. 
White drifts of camps like flocks of sheep 
I see artillery asleep ; 



The six in hands of muleteers 
Behind a picket fence of ears ; 
I see gray swarms along the hills ; 
I hear the bayonet cotfee mills, 
A snare drum snarling to itself,. 
A catch of song, a blue coat joke, 
I smell the sweet red cedar smoke. 
No sign of storm or anything, 
The very standards droop and cling. 



QENERAL HANCOCK'S HUIVIOR. 



fENERAL HANCOCK was not 
much given to humorous declara- 
tions, but he said one exceedingly 
good thing in that line at Gettysburg. 
At a certain stage of that great battle it 
happened that some subordinate officer, 
acting upon his own responsibility, dis- 
regarded ordinary military rules and 



caused a decided advantage to be gained 
where, according to West Point philoso- 
phy, a disaster should have ensued. 
Hancock was both provoked and de- 
lighted. 

" If I knew the fool who ordered 
that movement," he exclaimed, "I 
would have him brevetted ! " 



-'^ Baffle ©f ^©PlHfS.^^ 

Thk Assault on Kort Robinet. 

OCTOBER 3, 4, 1862. 
A 63d OHIO MAN'S RECOLLECTIONS. 




|URING the early part of 
September, 1862, a part of 
Stanley's division, to which 
Fuller's Ohio brigade was 
attached, occupied luka, Miss. We received orders to evac- 
uate the place on the night of the 13th, leaving the 8th Wis. , un- 
der Colonel Murphy, behind, with orders to destroy the govern- 
ment property, of which there was an immense amount; but 
that order Colonel Murphy failed to obey for reasons known 
only to himself, and the property fell into the hands of Generals 
Price and Van Dorn. 

We encamped near Cedar Creek, a few miles from Corinth, 
on the 14th, and unceremoniously received orders on the night of 
the 17th to fall in, taking the back track for luka. The ad- 
vance of Gen. W. S. Rosecrans's army drove in the outpost of 
the enemy about noon, September 19, at a farm house called 
Barnett's Cross-roads, from which point General Rosecrans 
sent a courier to General Grant, at Burns ville, eight miles from 
luka, informing him of the fact, and that he expected to meet 
the rebels in force that afternoon. 

The messenger failed to reach General Grant, having lost 
the road before the real battle of luka commenced; conse- 
quently General Rosecrans had to fight alone against immense 
odds, and he won the field, after a desperate engagement. I 
picked up General Lytle's sword after the battle. I had charge 
of a detail burying the dead the next day, and examining our 



CAMP AND FIELD. 135 

own men I came across a soldier of the 4Stli Ind., who had 
been hit in three places, one ball going clear through his body 
and lodging in a small Bible in his knapsack. He was about 
twenty years old, with red hair, and I think his name was 
Williams. After luka we went back near to Corinth, and while 
on this march an incident happened not very pleasing to our 
division commander. General Stanley. My regiment had its 
proportion of stragglers, and among them was one noted for 
his foraging propensities. At a farm house near which we 
halted was a lot of bee-hives, and this fellow wanted some honey. 
While getting it General Stanley came out of the house, which 
scared the fellow so that he dropped the hive and ran, and the 
bees went for the general. I presume the general has not for- 
gotten the fact, or the licking he gave the fellow with one of 
the teamster's whips. 

After lying a few days near the Tuscumbia river we got 
orders again on the night of October 2d, and crossing the 
Tuscumbia at sunrise the 3d, Colonel Sprague told us to fill all 
our canteens and take a big drink, as we would be likely to 
have a fight before we saw any more water, which was a fact, 
although we did not get into an engagement that day. In the 
afternoon of that day, the canteens being nearly empty, a call 
was made by company commanders for two volunteers to take 
the canteens and look for water, but I had been saving with 
mine and it was half full. That evening we took position near 
Fort Robinet, and Co. B of our regiment did picket duty on 
the Chewalla road, to the left of Robinet. It was just before 
daylight on the 4th of October, that we captured the rebel 
Captain Tobin and his bugler. 

We were lying on each side of the road, a few rods from 
Robinet, when the rebel captain and the bugler came along 
in advance of his battery, and with perfect assurance, as they 
thought our army had evacuated the place, everything was 
so still. The rebel batteries opened before daylight, but our 
artillery did not take any notice of them until broad day, which 
accounted for Captain Tobin's thinking we had evacuated. 
Shortly after sunrise we received the first rebel assault, and it 
was in their second assault, but a short time after, that Colonel 
Rogers, of the Texas Legion, was killed. 

We captured a handsome brass James rifle, made in En- 
gland. It was taken before either rebel assaults, and the 1st 



136 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



U. S. Inf. had the cheek to lay claim to the prize. A year 
after, while I was an ordnance officer, I recognized the same 
gun, with this inscription: " Captured at Corinth, Miss., October 
4, 1862, by 1st U. S. Inf." Immediately in the rear of Robinet 
was Fort Williams, and to their guns, as much as any, were 
the rebels indebted for their defeat, as a perfect storm of shot 
and shell fell upon them. Fort Madison, an inside earthwork 
mounting heavy guns, was manned by part of Co. D, 63d 
Ohio, and did good execution. 




SOLDIER'S DEATH-BED HYMN, 



Mrs. NANNIE I. MILLER. 



^^ET me go where saints are going, 
c^ To the mansions of the blest ; 

t> Let me go where my Redeemer 

Has prepared his people's rest. 
I would gain the realms of brightness, 

Where they dwell forevermore ; 
I would join the friends that wait me 

Over on the other shore. 



Let me go ; why should I tarry, 

What has earth to bind me here ? 
What but cares, and toils, and sorrow, 

What but pain, and death, and fear T 
Let me go, for hopes most cherished 

Blasted 'round me often lie ; 
Oh ! I've gathered brightest flowers 

But to see them fade and die. 



Let me go where none are weary, 

Where is raised no wail of woe ; 
Let me go and bathe my spirit 

In the raptui-es angels know. 
Let me go, for bliss eternal 

Lures my soul away, away, 
And the victors' song triumphant 

Thrills my heart ; I cannot stay. 



Let me go where tears and sighing 

Are forevermore unknown ; 
Where the joyous song of glory 

Calls me to a happier home. 
Let me go, I fear not dying, 

I would gain life's fairer plains, 
I would join the myriad harpers, 

I would chant the rapturous strains. 



Let me go, there is a glory 

That my soul has longed to know ; 
I am thirsting for the waters 

That from crystal fountains flow ! 
There is where the angels tarry, 

There the blest forever throng, 
There the brightness wearies never, 

There we'll sing Redemption's song. 



KieKm^imes oF QJ^ir i^e^acilGrg. 



GEO. E. WILLIA-IS/tS. 



^^VERY general of prominence had 
a nickname bestowed upon him 
by his troops. Some of these 
names were sarcastic, but usually 
they indicated the confidence of the 
men in their leaders. General Grant 
was commonly known in the Army of 
the Potomac as " Old United States," 
from the initials of his name, but some- 
times he was called " Old Three Stars," 
that number indicating his rank as 
lieutenant-general. McClellan was en- 
deared to his army as " Little Mac." 
Meade, who wore spectacles, was de- 
lighted to hear that the soldiers had 
named him " Four-eyed George," for he 
knew it was not intended as a reproach. 
Burnside, the colonel of the 1st R. I. 
Regt., rose to the dignity of " Rhody " 
when he became a general. Hooker 
never liked the sobriquet of " Fighting 
Joe," though he always lived up to it 
on the field. Pope was saddled with 
the title of " Saddle-bag John," in 
memory of his famous order about 
headquarters being on horseback. His ^ 
men used to say that their headquarters 
moved pretty rapidly at times. Sigel, 
the German general, was known in the 
corps as " Dutchy." Hancock won the 
brevet of " Superb," from a remark 
made by General Meade at Gettysburg 
when the Second Corps repulsed Long- 
street's men. Humphi'ey, being a dis- 
tinguished engineer, was invariably 
»tyled " Old Mathematics." The Penn- 
sylvania Reserves used to call Crawford 
"Physics," he being a surgeon at the 



beginning of his military career. Logan, 
with his long black hair and dai'k com- 
plexion, was " Black Jack." Sheridan, 
the cavalry leader, was "Little Phil," 
and Slierman's troops spoke of him as 
" Old Tecumseh." The sterling nature 
and steadfast purpose of Thomas earned 
for him the significant name of " Old 
Reliable." Alexander McDowell Mc- 
Cook, like Hooker, was called " Fight- 
ing McCook." The New York City 
regiments in the 5th Corps changed 
Sykes to " Syksey." Halleck was de- 
risively named " Old Brains," and Rose- 
crans had his name shortened to 
" Rosy." Lew Wallace was " Louisa " 
to the soldiers under his command ; he 
was a great favorite for his fighting 
qualities, and the soldiers adopted that 
inappropriate name for want of a better. 
Kearney, who had left an arm in Mex^ 
ico, was invariably known in the ranks 
as " One-armed Phil." Butler was 
styled " Cock-eye " for obvious reasons. 
Kilpatrick was nicknamed " Kill," while 
Custer was called " Ringlets " on ac- 
count of his long, flowing curls ; and so 
the catalogue might be prolonged in- 
definitely. 

Among the Confederates, familiar 
nicknames were not as common as with 
the Federals. The soldiers of the Army 
of Northern Virginia usually spoke of 
General Lee as "Bob Lee." Little 
INIahone was best known as " Skin and 
Bones." Early was called " Bad Old 
Man," and Jackson will live in history 
as " Stonewall." 



A FIGHTING CHAPLAIN. 

EXPERIENCE AT THE BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN.-FIERCE MORTAR DUELS. 

By REV. GEORGE G. SMITH, Chaplain in the Phillips Georgia Legion. 



F you will permit, I will tell you about the afternoon at 
South Mountain, in 1862, when I received a bullet 
—^ ") through my neck, and when night alone saved General 
j^^^ Lee's army from capture. A year before I had been 
the pastor of a charming little church in a beautiful 
valley in upper Georgia. I was just married, and ought to 
have been content to have staid at home, but in my veins 
was the blood of those who had fought in the Revolution, and 
when I saw my parishioners going to the front I went too, as 
the chaplain of the Phillips Legion. We had fifteen com- 
panies — nine of infantry, five of cavalry, and one of artil- 
lery — commanded by Col. William Phillips. We had had our 
share of hard work, but until the summer of 1862, we had no 
serious fighting. On the Sunday morning (September 14) on 
which the battle of South Mountain began, we were in camp at 
Hagerstown. We were expecting quite a time of repose when 
the order came to return towards Boonsboro'. I had 7iot the 
remotest dream of any hot work, nor do I think any of us had, 
for we had no idea that the army of the Potomac could be re- 
organized and mobilized so soon. We thought the assault upon 
our lines was merely a feint of cavalry. This was evidently 
General Lee's opinion, or else he would not have allowed Jack- 
son to have crossed the Potomac; but it was soon evident from 
the rapid motion of the artillery and infantry that hot work 



OAMP AND FIELD. 139 

was before us. My regiment had gone and I ambled off as 
rapidly as I could toward the front. 

Somehow I got the name of the "fighting chaplain," and 
candidly I did not like it, for it was neither just nor compli- 
mentary. I did not go to the army to fight; I did not fight 
after I got there. I had as little stomach for fighting as 
Falstaff had. I went to the army as a chaplain, and as a chap- 
lain I did my work, and yet that day I got a bullet through my 
neck, I ought not to have gone where the bullets were flying, 
but I did go and I got hit, and this is how it came about. I 
found Generals Lee, Longstreet, and Jones, standing at the 
base of the pass, and with them was one of the staff officers of 
our brigade. Captain Young, Inquiring of him for my regi- 
ment, he told me that it was behind a stone fence on the right 
of the Boonsboro' and Frederick pike, and I immediatel}'' re- 
paired to that place. A battery of light artillery was firing 
overhead and we lay quietly looking toward the south. Sud- 
denly the order came to change front. We were now to face 
towards the west. The turnpike was narrow, and the enemy 
were upon us. The change of position called for a change 
from line of battle to column, and then from column into line. 
My own regiment did beautifully and for a moment we looked 
to the woods expecting the Federals to charge upon us, but in- 
stead we were ordered to leave the protection of the stone wall 
and to charge into the woods. As we entered the woods I saw 
a poor fellow fall and heard him say, "Lord Jesus, receive my 
spirit." I went to him and said, "My friend, that's a good 
prayer, I hope you feel it." He answered, " Stranger, I am not 
afraid to die; I made my peace with God over thirty years 
ago." Just at that moment I heard Cook, our commander, say 
in a loud voice, " For God's sake don't fire; we are friends!" I 
turned and saw a body of our troops about ready to fire. I said, 
" I will go back, colonel, and stop them." As I ran back to the 
fence, I looked down the very road we had left, and saw a 
body of Federals moving on us. Something must be done, and 
I ran tb General Drayton, our commander, and told him the 
position, A feint certainly must be made; if the Federals 
should know that the stone fence was abandoned, they would 
sweep upon the fence and thus capture the last man. Major 
Gest, when he saw how matters were, placed the few men he 
had in position; and I started for my regiment. As I came to 



140 CAMP AND FIELD. 

the pike, I saw a soldier shooting towards the east. It took but 
a moment for me to see that the Federals were east, south, and 
west of us. 

The firing was now fierce, but I felt that my regiment must 
be brought out of that pocket at all hazards, and I started to 
warn it, when I found it retreating. Poor Ellis, a Welchman, 
had run the gantlet and given them warning, and the regi- 
ment was now retreating in a broken and confused manner. 
One of the boys, Gus Tomlinson, in tears, said: *' Parson, we've 
been whipped; the regiment is retreating." "And none too 
soon either," said I, "for we are surrounded on all sides but 
one." Just then I felt a strange dizziness and fell, my arm 
dropping lifeless by my side. I knew that I was hit, and I 
thought mortally wounded. But where was I hit? Was my 
arm torn off by a shell? No, here that is. Was I shot through 
the breast? or — yes, here it was — blood was gurgling from my 
throat. The dear boys rushed to me, laid me on a blanket and 
bore me off the field. I thought I was mortally wounded; so 
did they. " Yes, parson," said they, "it's all up with you." The 
ball had entered myi^neck, and ranging downward, came out 
near my spine, paralyzing my arm. How does a man feel under 
such circumstances? Well, one thing I felt, and that was, 
that it's a good thing in such an hour to have faith in Christ 
and love toward all men. I had been in battle but there was 
not one of the soldiers in the Federal ranks for whom I had 
any feeling other than love. As we came out Hood's division 
went in, but it was the caution of the Federals and the cover 
of the night that saved our army that day from a worse defeat 
and from capture. 



THE ANGLE. A WORD FROM GEN. PORTER. 

■0 *" — ^ s — -• ■ e« .» ■ • — " SI'S — -• i. 

At the battle of Spottsylvania Court Colonel James McQuade, of the 

House, called " The Angle," it is claimed 14th New York Volunteers, was the 

that thei-e were more dead men found only i-egimental commander of Grif- 

on the ground than in any other battle fin's brigade who escaped death during 

of modern times to the same number the Seven Days' Battles on the Penin- 

of acres. sula. 



IP BUCPATER Hpi GOPEST. 

SEPTEMBER 27, 1862. 

A Brave and Daring Act of the Gallant Commodore, C. W. Flusser. 

"W. p. DERBY, 27thL ]VIass. 




ENERAL DIX desired the naval forces in the North 
Carolina waters to co-operate with him in an attack 
upon the enemy at the Blackwater river, and six 
o'clock, Sept. 27, 1862, was the hour fixed for the 
attack. The Commodore Perry, under the gallant com- 
mander, C. W, Flusser, and the Hunchback, under the "old 
reliable " Captain Calhoun, were ordered to this duty. General 
Dix sent to have a later date fixed for the attack, but before his 
messenger arrived our vessels were far on their way up the 
Chowan. At six o'clock, our vessels were at the assigned point 
and fired the signal gun. They cautiously ascended the Black- 
water until the stream was so narrow that a desperate foe 
might board them from either bank. Suddenly a musketry 
fire raked the Perry and cut down her flag. Everything 
was ready for close action, and for four hours these vessels 
kept up the unequal contest with grape shrapnel and half -sec- 
ond shells, hoping each moment to hear the sound of friendly 
arms to their relief. Twice Commodore Flusser sent forward a 
man to raise his flag, each of whom fell lifeless at the foot of 
the flag-staff. He then went and raised it himself amidst a 
storm of bullets, and returned, his clothes riddled by shot but 
himself unharmed. He then went to a gunner, saying, " I'll 
show you how to cut a fuse," and suiting action to his word 
stooped and cut the fuse close to the shell. As he did so a ball 
passed over him and pierced his gunner's heart. 

Their ammunition was running low, and failing to hear from 
General Dix, they reversed their engines to drop down the 



142 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



river. Fortunately the two vessels were armed ferry boats and 
could move with equal facility in either direction, as tiiey could 
not turn if they would. But a new difficulty now beset them. 
During the engagement the enemy had felled trees from both 
banks in the river below, completely obstructing the channel. 
These men were not the men to be caught in such a trap. 
Chaining the two steamers stern to stern the engine of the fore- 
most was stopped, and with a full head of steam at the rear 
they ploughed their way through the obstruction. Huge guns 
meantime thundered forth storms of iron in answer to the in- 
cessant musketry from the shore. These two vessels had been 
the terror of the North Carolina waters, and now that they were 
seemingly within their grasp the enemy were determined to 
make sure of them. The shock of heavy guns answered to 
shock and the roll of small arms told of the desperate determi- 
nation of the contestants. At length the vessels reached clear 
sailing and the sullen enemy quickly retreated from the reach 
of their guns. It was well done. Just like Flusser! and when 
any one challenged Captain Calhoun he was sure to get a 
'• Hunchback." 



a/S^-^J 




i=^Ss 



A SOLDIKR'S ORAVK. 



lONE L. JONES. 






RUDE wooden cross 'mid a 
tanoie of a:rasses — 



Poverty's tribute of love ; 
I would that I knew who lies 'neath the 
wild masses, 
Swaying in silence above." 
Then she dropped a white rose 'mid the 
shadows and masses, 
And passed with her burden of flowers. 



Alas! 'neath the weeds that the fra- 
grant breeze tosses 
Sleepeth, thro' sunshine and showers, 
The form of a soldier, beloved and be- 
lieving, 
Borne from the battle field dead ; 
And the hands of a maiden whose heart 
broke with grieving 
Placed the rude cross at his head. 




MY ESCAPE FROM THE REBELS. 



Tale t of * Prison-Pen ^ and i Stockade. 



HOW COLUMBIA, S. C, CAME TO BE BURNED.— TWENTY 
DAYS WITH SHERMAN'S "BUMMERS." 

CAPT. IRA B. SAMPSON, 2ci Mass. Heavy Artillery. 




FTER a few weeks' stay at Savannah, the move- 
ments of General Sherman necessitated the removal 
of prisoners to a place of greater safety. We were 
therefore taken to Charleston, S. C, and quarters 
assigned us at the jail and contiguous yard. We 
were here within range , , ^^- ~ ) grass-grown streets were 
of the Union guns of ~J ^-^"tL ., graphic witnesses of the 
Morris Island, and such //^^^m-"^ effective work of "Gill- 
exposure was a specimen ^mMmMLl nigre's swamp angels " — 
of rebel barbarity seldom ^^5\^:^ or as they were more 
p a r a U e 1 e d. Toppled Wfjikms^'^ familiarly called by the 
steeples and chimneys, ^^If^^S^ prisoners, "Gillmore's 
j^awning house walls and ^'^f*^^^^ ^ morning reports." For 
weeks I slept beneath the old gallows within the jail-yard, and 
though it was grimly suggestive it furnished me protection and 
comfort others would have been glad to secure. The waning 
heat of summer brought with it the dreaded scourge, yellow 
fever. 

Reaching Columbia at night we lay upon the ground in a 
soaking rain, — a bath we much enjoyed. The next morning 
we were removed to " Camp Sorghum," an old cotton field near 
the Congaree river, a short distance above the city. Having 
no stockade, it was surrounded with a cordon of guards and 
equipped with the usual number of blood-hounds, the former 
with instructions to shoot any one approaching the dead line. 



144 CAMP AND FIELD. 

At first our supply of wood was obtained by a loop guard 
thrown out in the timber, but later a daily parole was substi- 
tuted. Some broke their parole and endeavored to escape, but 
most of us were too reduced in strength to make such an at- 
tempt. There were some 1500 officers confined in the field, liv- 
ing in holes in the ground and in booths made of sticks and 
leaves until quite late in the fall, when with the aid of a few 
axes some rude huts were constructed. 

Late in December the weather and insufficiency of clothing 
forced the removal of the camp to a stockade near the city. 
This inclosed two acres of the state insane asylum grounds and 
was therefore styled "Asylum camp." Within the inclosure 
were two buildings used as hospitals. These hospitals were 
provided with nurses from our numbers while occasional visits 
of a Confederate surgeon supplied us with a scanty amount 
of medicines. Our rations were inadequate in quantity and 
quality. We slept during the day in the sun and walked the 
camp at night to keep warm. 

Believing our forces were surely pressing toward us, we ex- 
pected the enemy would attempt a removal of the prisoners, 
and hence our leisure moments had been spent in devising 
" retreats " in which to seclude ourselves when marching orders 
were received. Lieut. R. B. Sinclair, Co. G, 2d Regt. Mass. heavy 
artillery, had been acting as nurse in the larger hospital and 
had his bunk at the front of the second upper hall. Along the 
front of this building was a piazza wainscoted overhead, and 
he conceived the idea of hiding between the ceiling and roof. 
Using a case-knife with notches for a saw a hole was cut dur- 
ing the nights underneath his bunk into this space. The boards 
were replaced, the cracks filled with soap, and we waited events. 
On the night of February 13, 1865, we received orders to move. 
Nine of us stowed ourselves within the hiding place, filling 
it to its utmost capacity. A comrade outside generously re- 
placed the boards, refilling the cracks with soap and then left 
us to our fate. Our party now consisted of Major Reynolds, 
14th N. Y, artillery, Lieuts. R. B. Sinclair and William Hamil- 
ton, 2d Mass. heavy artillery, Lieutenants Devine and Byers 
with three others, now unknown, besides myself. The drums 
beat, the line was formed, and the prisoners moved out of the 
pen to the cars and started for North Carolina. This was about 
one o'clock at night. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 145 

During the rest of the night the rebel guards searched the 
grounds for prisoners, and in the morning we saw them 
through the cracks form a line across the camp and march 
slowly to the other side, testing every inch of its surface 
with their ramrods and bayonets. Some fifty or inore comrades 
were exhumed, for it was an old trick and fully understood by 
the rebels. Guards came within the building where we were 
concealed, searching every nook and corner except where we 
were, and their conversation showed that we were overlooked. 
Our quarters allowed no room for movement, and no utterance 
above a whisper was thought of. The rebel guard withdrew 
during the night of the 14th. On whispered consultation, we 
determined to break our seclusion that night before nine o'clock, 
as citizens at that hour were required to be within their homes. 

It was scarcely more than eight o'clock when we emerged 
from our hiding place, and after a reconnoiter it was decided 
that each man should shift for himself. Entering the deserted 
grounds, now still as death, our own breath and footfall 
startled us with a strange nervousness. The entrance was 
closed, but by the aid of a stick I was enabled to climb the 
stockade and stand within a sentry-box recently occupied by 
one of our guards. I could see nothing but the glimmer of 
lights in the suburbs of the city, and guided by these I soon 
found myself on a street leading into a thickly settled portion. 
Having the utmost confidence in the blacks, who had always 
proved faithful in the protection of escaped prisoners, I deter- 
mined to throw myself upon their generosity. I found myself 
near a cabin not far from a city mansion, and thought it must 
be the servants' quarters. My knock at the door was answered 
by an old " aunty," who looking at me in astonishment, grasped 
my hand and, drawing me into the house, exclaimed, " I know 
you!" The only other occupant was an old colored man, who 
beckoned me to follow him. He took me to a barn, and from a 
scaffold I worked my way around two sides of the barn under 
the hay and made a cozy nest — a safe hiding place — from which 
I could watch operations without. 

It is needless to add that I was at once supplied with an abun- 
dance of food. On the morning of the 16th I found my position 
to be on the east side of the city and nearly opposite to where 
the Union army afterwards entered. The day passed. My 
faithful keepers gave me from time to time the flying rumors 



146 CAMP AND FIELD. 

as to Massa Sherman's whereabouts and supposed intentions. 
First he was certainly crossing the river above, and then below, 
"for shure, massa.." Out of it all I was certain the blue coats 
were coming and the hour of deliverance was at hand. There 
were ominous sounds of hurrying troops and the distant peal 
and reverberation of cannon, which gathered strength as the 
day wore away. My strength increased with the boom of the 
cannon, and for once I found myself thriving on the enemy's 
misfortunes. 

The morning of the 17th of February opened with the hasty 
evacuation and attempt to burn the city of Columbia by the 
enemy. It was hardly more than ten o'clock before a body of 
Wheeler's rebel cavalry issued from the city a quarter of a mile 
distant, firing several buildings, including the railroad depot 
and warehouses, filled with grain and other stores, and then 
passed across the fields on the outskirts of the city and disap- 
peared. There was no chance of a mistake as to who they 
were or what their intention was in firing the buildings. I was 
well satisfied that the evacuation had begun. This was some 
little time before the appearance of General Sherman, My 
colored friends had been instructed to watch events and bring 
me the first blue-coat which entered the city. A little before 
noon I was summoned to appear. Never was order obeyed 
more eagerly as I jumped from the scaffold and was presented 
to an officer of one of Iowa's brave regiments. With one 
bound I was in his arms and beyond that I never knew or felt 
little responsibility for what happened. I have been told that 
the prisoners as they met acted more like crazy men than 
rational beings. 

In passing into the city it was noticed that the streets were 
lined with broken bales of cotton, and from the amount con- 
sumed there was no escape from the conclusion that it must 
have been fired some time previous to the coming of the Union 
forces by the rebels before their retreat. It was so stated to me 
by a number of citizens. 

The fire from the first had been urged on by a high w^nd, but 
during the excitement attending the evacuation of the enemy 
and occupation by the Union army, little attention had been paid 
to the progress of the flames. It soon became evident that it 
would require energetic work to stop the conflagration. The 
Iowa brigade aided by others battled bravely against its ad- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 147 

vance, but the strong wind carried the burning brands far and 
wide with destructive effect. It was plain that the fire was be- 
yond control, and but for the presence of an army of disciplined 
men there could hardly have been a building left to mark its 
former site. I never worked harder than that night in saving 
life and property, and yet it was in sight of the hated stock- 
ade where but a few hours previous I had been confined as an 
outlaw. When the morning of the 18th dawned the fire was 
stayed, but five hundred houses, five churches and a convent 
lay in ruins. 

As we were about to leave Columbia, Captain Greble and my- 
self were invited to look after a party of refugees — ladies and 
children desiring to go North. We confiscated a family car- 
riage with a good team and took turns as gallants for 
three or four days; but this was too monotonous for such ex- 
citing times, so we secured a colored "brudder" for this duty 
and joined in the more satisfactory v/ork of Sherman's bum- 
mers. 

On reaching Fayetteville, N. C, we found a Union tug-boat 
which had come up the Cape Fear river to meet our forces. 
The tug had met with considerable opposition in ascending the 
river. I offered my services as artillerist to take charge of the 
guns on the return to Wilmington. Bidding adieu to my com- 
rades and an army unequaled for endurance and bravery, the 
tug turned its prow down the river, reaching Wilmington in a 
single night without opposition. A few days later I reported 
at Washington and received thirty days' leave of absence for 
having made "an escape." Not many hours later I rejoined 
the loved ones at home in "God's country." 



BAND OK HEROKS. 



f|HE most remarkable instance, per- and Chaplain Newhall, of General A^ 

haps, of a small band of heroes, Mcintosh's staff. a| 

'^^ successfully opposing a vastly su- This little band were every one **" 

perior force, occurred at the very close killed or disabled, but they succeeded 

of the battle of Gettysburg. "The in delaying the enemy until General 

enemy were temporarily checked," says Custer came up with the 7th Michigan 

General Doubleday in his history of regiment." The gallant Treichel (now 

the battle, "by a desperate charge on Colonel) still lives, and is the effi- 

their flanks made by only sixteen men cient auditor of the New York Custom 

under Captains Treichel and Rogers, House. 



DECENIBER, 1862. 

HOW IT WAS DONE.-A GREAT SURPRISE. 

■E>y TFT. I=. XlEXSB-2", 2 7tli. 2v£ass. 




''N December, 1862, six companies of the Mass. 27th, 
under Maj. W. G. Bartholomew, were the garrison of 
Plymouth, N. C. Learning the whereabouts of a de- 
tachment of Walker's Cavalry Rangers, Lieutenant 
Pliny Wood, with three non-commissioned officers and 
twenty privates, left Plymouth at night for " up country." In 
spite of darkness, rain, and snags, they toiled up the river and 
through branches and creeks until three o'clock in the morning 
of the 21st, when they had made a distance of twenty-five 
miles. After landing, they marched four and a half miles 
through woods and swamps to the Williamston road, a mile 
above, and to the rear of Shiloh church, where the "rangers" 
were quartered. After a full understanding of what was to be 
done. Lieutenant Wood divided his force into four squads and 
advanced, a squad taking position upon each side of the church. 
It was gray of dawn and quite difficult to distinguish objects. 
Lieutenant Wood now shouted, " First Division, halt! Front! 
Ready!" which was responded to on the other sides of the 
church. "Second, Third and Fourth Divisions, halt! Front! 
Ready!" Lieutenant Wood's squad marched to the front door 
and in the name of General Wood demanded an immediate and 
unconditional surrender. Sixteen men came out and surren- 
dered, while the other squads came up and secured their arms 
and the horses tethered close by. At length the rebel sergeant 
asked, " Where in h— 1 are you uns mens?" and when told to 
" see them " angrily exclaimed: " Is that all? If we had known 
that, you uns would have had a merry fight, by ; but you 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



149 



uns ain't got the pickets yet." The countersign was extorted 
from one of the prisoners, when a detail was made to relieve 
the pickets, and soon after the detail returned with four addi- 
tional prisoners and their horses. The party arrived at Ply- 
mouth about noon with twenty prisoners and their arms and 
equipments, twenty-five horses, twelve mules, and forty con- 
trabands; all without the firing of a gun. 



ANIERICA'S ANSWKR. 

H. BERNARD CARPENTER. 
1861-1885. 



^^"^OW twice twelve years ago, 
"--^ When we, thro' fields of woe, 
Weeping, went forth to sow 

Our blood's bright seed. 
We cried to the old-world land: 
" These fresh wounds crave your hand ; 
Help us to balm and band 

In our sore need." 



Those twice twelve years are gone, 
War's harvest work is done. 
All our stars sing as one 

From sea to sea, 
While far across the main 
Their skies grow black with rain, 
Where the old world cries in pain, 

"Your help need we." 



Then back their message ran : 
" Renounce your cloud-born plan, 
Deeming that man with man 

Can live thus free ; 
Unbind your lictor's rod, 
Teach old disdain to nod. 
Throne custom for your God 

And — live as WE." 



Back flies our answering word : 

" Free your soil, sheathe your sword, 

Live ye in love's accord 

As men ; be free ; 
Be one — till peace creates. 
High above gods and fates, 
A World's United States, 

And — live as WE." 



BATTERY D. 

The most daring and desperate act of 
the war by any battery has been credited 
by both Union and Confederate author- 
ity to Battery D, 5th U. S. Artillery, 
Lieut. Ritterhouse, and occurred at the 
battle of Spottsylvania, May 13, 1864. 



GREATEST NUMBER OF BATTLES. 

The 8.5th Pennsylvania participated in 
a greater number of battles (up to Nov., 
1864,) than any other regiment in the 5th 
Corps. It took part in twenty-five, next 
came the 1st Michigan, twenty-four, and 
then the 16th Michigan, twenty-two. 



Capture of Fort Hindnian, IMm Post, 



A DESPERATE ARTILLERY DUEL 



A BRILLIANT SUCCESS FOR THE FEDERAL ARMY. 

JANUARY 11, 1868. 
JOHN W. FRY, Company H, 42d Ohio. 




fANUARY 11 was 
siicri a day as in tlie 
latitude of Ohio 
comes sometimes to 
break tlie gioom of No- 
vember. The Confeder- 
ate reveille was blown, 
clear and shrill, at dawn. The Federal bugles took up the 
strain, and the eventful day was opened with as tuneful a 
morning call as ever woke an army to battle. The rebels were 
at their posts as soon as the growing light made their position 
visible. Through the center of the isthmus of solid ground, 
between the swamp and the river, upon which Fort Hindman 
and the earthworks were built, ran a road. Sherman's corps 
was ordered to take the right of this, Morgan's corps the left. 
Admiral Porter with the gunboats was to assail the fort from 
the river, while the troops should drive the rebels into the forti- 
fications and carry the works by storm. DeCourcy's brigade 
was early astir. It had lost more than a third of its numbers 
at Chickasaw bayou, and General Morgan decided to hold it in 
reserve that day. General Morgan, with the remainder of his 
corps, pushed up to the front. He had A. J. Smith's division 
of two brigades, and Lightburn's brigade of Osterhaus's divis- 
ion, the other brigade of Osterhaus's division (DeCourcy's) 
being left to watch the White River road and guard the boats. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 151 

Smith's division was on Morgan's right, joining the left of 
Sherman's corps, and to the left of Smith, Lindsay, whose line 
reached to the river. McClernand felt sure of his game and 
did not force the fighting. He could afford to take the fort 
scientifically and spare his men. It was preferable to disable 
the casemate guns, and give the garrison a healthful morning's 
work before making the assault. All being ready at eleven 
o'clock, the gunboats engaged the fort at short range. They 
fired rapidly and with such effect that before noon the nine-inch 
barbette gun was split and broken away nearly back to the 
trunnions. Two twenty-pounder Parrotts of Foster's battery 
were run up behind a large sycamore log on the river bank, 
three hundred yards from the fort, and sent shells into the em- 
brasures of the casemates. These two guns were fired with the 
deliberate accuracy of a sharpshooter, and dismounted and cap- 
sized a twelve-pounder iron gun during the morning. The 
other batteries of Morgan and Sherman engaged the field guns 
behind the parapet, and after a sharp duel, pretty effectually 
silenced them. An hour of sharp fighting drove the enemy 
within his works. The assailants were so near also that no 
further advance could be made without a direct assault. The 
gunboats were directly under the fort — so near, in fact, that 
they actually passed and opened a reverse fire upon it. Gen- 
eral Sherman extended his attack so far around to the right 
that his line was weakened on the left, and he called for re-en- 
forcements. Morgan sent him three regiments of Smith's divi- 
sion, and dispatched a courier to bring up DeCourcy. This 
veteran brigade on receiving the summons hurried forward and 
was soon to the front. It was put between Lindsay's brigade 
and Smith's division. While this was taking place a fierce 
artillery fire opened from the point across the river. At first it 
was thought to be a hostile re-enforcement from Little Rock; 
and Lindsay's guns were trained upon it; but just as they 
were about to fire, it was discovered that their guns were firing 
into the fort and along its west front, enfilading the rebel out- 
works with terrible effect. It was Foster, who had been sent 
above the night before to intercept any re-enforcements from 
up the river, and who, after watching the battle some hours, 
had come down on his own responsibility to take a hand in the 
finish. His fire set fire to buildings hitherto sheltered by the 
fort, swept the plain in its rear, and hastened the surrender. 



152 CAMP AND FIELB. 

DeCourcy's assaulting column moved rapidly forward through 
the brush across the open space in front of the works. The fire 
that met this advance was vigorous and rapid, but the enemy 
aimed wildly. They saw the storming column coming from 
all directions, and knew that further resistance was useless. 
Suddenly a white flag was run up at the northeastern angle of 
the fort. The firing suddenly ceased, and DeCourcy's men be- 
gan to cheer. Then the white flag was pulled down, and a thin 
scattering volley sputtered along the rebel line. The flag had 
been unauthorized. The whole Federal line poured in a final 
broadside, and this proved the finishing stroke of that day's 
work. Instantly the signals of surrender appeared all along 
the enemy's line. White handkerchiefs, tufts of cotton, and 
gray hats were held up on ramrods and bayonets from behind 
their parapet. The command "Cease firing! " was given, and 
in a moment all was hushed excepting a few irregular shots far 
round to the right. The rebels stood up behind their works, 
and the victorious army gave round after round of such cheers 
as we hear but once in a lifetime. 

Five thousand men, with all that was left of the fort and its 
armament, were unconditionally surrendered after a gallant re- 
sistance against overwhelming numbers. Soon after dusk, 
when everything had become quiet, two Confederate regiments, 
a re-enforcement from Pine Bluff, came marching in and found 
themselves prisoners of war. They piled their guns and were 
marched to the river bank, venting their wrath, meanwhile, in 
the hard and picturesque swearing for which Texas civiliza- 
tion is distinguished. 



UNION PRESERVED. FIRST CHECK DRAWN. 



^IRST order that the Union must and ''ip'HE first check drawn to send troops 
shall be preserved. — It was in 1833 forward in defense of the Union 

that President Andrew Jackson issued in 1861 was given by Hon. Edward 

the memorable order, " The Union — It Learned, of Greenfield, Mass. Mr. 

Must and Shall be Preserved " ; and it Learned was at the time visiting the 

was Admiral Farragut who was sent to Chamber of Commerce of New York, 

South Carolina by the President to sup- and it was while there that his check 

port his mandate. for one thousand dollars wais given. 
11 



j^ood's I^odt at )^fasl7\/ille. 



A GRAND UNION VICTORY WHICH UTTERLY DE- 
STROYED AN ARMY. 



HOW THOMAS'S SOLDIERS SWEPT LHvE A TORNADO OVER 
THE REBEL WORKS. 



BY HENRY SHOTWELL, Sth MINNES0T.\. 



.Tvm^^ji^jjQjyj 3^u jj^jj ^^ Appomattox there was no victon^won 
by either side more complete than that gained by 




Thomas over Hood at Nashville. The rebel army was 
well nigh destroyed — so nearly, indeed, that it ceased to 
be a factor in the struffo^le. The broken fraginents were o^athered 
up and sent east to assist in the vain attempt to stay the progress 
of Sherman northward through the Carolinas, but the fight was 
all taken out of the discouraged soldiers and they madebutasorrx- 
showing. The battle of Franklin, which occurred two weeks before 
Nashville, was a severe blow to Hood's army, and one from which 
it did not recover. It made all the more easy the victor}^ at 
Nashville. 

After the fight at Franklin we scampered to Nashville, where 
Thomas was collecting his forces for what proved to be the final 
blow to the rebel army, which we had faced on so many fields. 
It was important that Thomas should strike quickly. This was 
realized at Washington and by the people throughout the coun- 
try. As the days passed and still the two armies lay confronting 
each other, much impatience was expressed at the delay. It went 
so far that General John A. Logan started for Nashville with an 
order in his pocket to relieve Thomas. But there was good rea- 
son why two weeks slipped away before a movement was made. 
Everv soldier who was there knows \vhat it was. For davs the 



154 CAMP AND FIELD. 

ground was literally covered with ice, which rendered it impossi- 
ble to move troops. Horses could not stand upon the slippery 
surface. Nothing could be done with either cavalry or artillery. 
Thomas had no alternative but to wait patiently. 

On the fourteenth of December the weather softened, and orders 
were promptly issued to attack the enem\' the next morning. 
There was no general engagement on the fifteenth, but severe 
fighting occurred at different times and places, as the rebels were 
forced from all their advanced positions. The advantage of the 
day's operations all lay with the Union army. The blue-coated 
soldiers were in high spirits, and their commander, Thomas, 
awaited with the fullest confidence the coming of the dawn. 

The sixteenth of December settled forever the fate of Hood's 
army. The early part of the day was occupied in fighting for 
position. By the middle of the afternoon the whole armv was 
ready for the grand assault. McMillen's brigade — Eighth Minne- 
sota, Ninth and Seventy-second Indiana, Ninety-fifth Ohio and 
One Hundred and Fourteenth Illinois — was selected to make the 
initial "break." In the face of a tremendous fire we charged a 
hill upon which rested the left of the rebel line. Without falter- 
ing or hesitating a moment the brigade swept the crest, captur- 
ing a large number of prisoners and more than twenty pieces of 
artillerv. Fragments of Confederate regiments fied in the wild- 
est confusion. Our loss was heavy, though not as severe as 
might have been expected. Before we started upon the charge, 
Colonel McMillen ordered his men to refrain from cheering and not 
to fire a shot until the works had been gained. The order \vas 
obeyed to the letter. It was a most gallant and successful assault. 

Away to our left, in rear of the Union line, upon a rise of ground 
commanding a view of the field. General Thomas sat upon his 
horse, surrounded by generals and staff officers. With their 
glasses they eagerly watched our movements. Orders had been 
given all along the line to hold every command in readiness to 
spring at the signal. As soon as we had carried the hill and the 
break in the Confederate line was apparent, Thomas turned to 
the bugler at his side and directed him to sound the charge. 
Clear and sharp the notes rang out, and they were instantly 
caught up b\' a hundred other bugles, in all the divisions, brigades 
and regiments. The men leaped to their feet and the whole line 
made for the rebel intrenchments. These were formidable for 
field works, protected by a deep ditch, cheveaux-de-frise, pickets and 
fallen trees, and surmounted b\^ artillery. 

As the long blue line moved rapidly forward the enemy opened 



CAMP AND FIELD. 155 

a furious fire with musket and cannon, which for a few minutes 
was most destructive. It was, however, of brief duration. At 
the point wdiere McMillen's brigade made the breach in the 
rebel Hne, the utmost advantage was taken of the enemy's de- 
moraHzation. Without giving them an instant to recover from 
their panic, part of our force followed fast upon the heels of the 
fleeing gray-coats, while another part enfiladed the works with 
its fire. The panic spread rapidly along the rebel line as one 
regiment after another "let go" and broke to the rear. The 
general advance of the Fourth and Twenty-third corps quickly 
finished the work. At most points the enemy fired but one vol- 
ley. There was no time to reload. With loud ^xlls, the Union 
line swept on like a tornado. Every man felt that complete vic- 
tory was at hand. Everywherethe rebels gave wayin confusion. 
Over the works leaped the blue-coats, and on they rushed at their 
utmost speed. The enemy's retreat became a rout. Thousands 
of Confederates who knew when they had got enough, threw 
down their arms and surrendered. These included not only sol- 
diers, but officers of all grades, by the score. 

It was a great foot-race. Many of the Confederate regiments 
wholly lost their organization. They were transformed into a 
mob of terrified men, each looking out for himself Still after 
them pushed the tritmiphant Union soldiers, filling the air with 
shouts and yells. At the break the cavalry had been told to "go 
in," and the troopers dashed upon the fleeing foe, slashing with 
their sabers and capturing prisoners in droves. It was a furiously 
wild and exciting scene — one that no participant could forget 
should he live a thousand years. Nothing could exceed the 
enthusiasm and impetuosity of our men. Now and then the 
rebel officers would attempt to rally their soldiers in the hope of 
checking the onward rush of the victorious army. It was all in 
vain. A shattered brigade would halt and deliver a feeble, sput- 
tering fire and then run faster than ever. 

There w^as necessarily much confusion in the Union army. In 
such a pursuit it was impossible to preserve even the semblance 
of an alignment. Each man thought of nothing but to press 
forward. Some had longer legs than others. If the short fellows 
didn't get along cjuite so fast it was not their fault ; they all tried 
hard enough. 

It was late in the afternoon when the break occurred. The 
shadows of gathering twilight settled down upon the scene of 
eighty thousand men chasing and being chased along the roads 
and through the woods and fields. Miles and miles the pursuit 



156 CAMP AND FIELD. 

was kept up, until darkness came. I have no doubt that the 
"Johnnies" were as utterly and completely exhausted as we were. 

At length a halt was ordered. The men had yelled till they 
were hoarse, but they still kept up the noise as they prepared 
their suppers. It didn't take much preparation — only to make 
coffee and toast bacon. Many had little or nothing to eat, hav- 
ing flung away their blankets and even their haversacks in their 
all-consuming desire to "get there." But those who had hung 
on to their supplies shared them with the destitute ones, and all 
were happy. Around the bivouac fires, till far into the night, 
they laughed and sung and shouted, and no officer tried to stop 
the noise. The men had fairly earned the right to yell, and they 
were permitted to make all the racket the}' wanted to. 

I have no doubt that the soldiers of the Army of the Cumber- 
land were especially happy. For three years they had been fight- 
ing the rebel army, which was now beaten and driven in hopeless 
rout. They had had with it many a fierce and bloody grapple. 
Tens of thousands of men had fallen upon either side. AH were 
weary of the strife. It is no wonder that the followers of the 
starry flag went well nigh wild with joy. 

For more than two weeks the pursuit was continued by a large 
part of General Thomas' army. The weather was wretched be- 
yond description — cold, raw and rainy. Some of the men had 
"pup" tents, but thousands were obliged to content themselves 
with such temporary shelter as the}' could contrive each 
night, with the aid of brush, straw, cornstalks, rails and such 
other materials as came to hand. Rations, too, soon became ex- 
asperatingly short. The roads were wholly impassable, and 
nothing could reach the troops except the scant supply that could 
be carried on pack mules. Hardtack almost disappeared. For 
days the soldiers lived almost entirely upon parched corn. Thev 
were consoled b}' the thought that the rebels fared no better, with 
the added misery of knowing that they had been everlastingly 
whipped. In the Union army not a murmur was heard. Day 
after day the soldiers went sloshing through the mud with soaked 
garments, but still they sang and yelled and thought of the end of 
the war, which it seemed must soon come. "Uncle Billy" Sher- 
man was somewhere down in the bowels of the Confederacy with 
sixty thousand men, and everybody had an abiding faith that 
he and Grant would ere long finish Lee, as we had finished Hood. 

The battle of Nashville was perfect in both plan and execution. 
Five thousand prisoners were taken, nearly sixty pieces of artil- 
lery and twenty-five battle-flags. 



TP STOPING OF MJIRIE'S RIGHTS. 



A Tornado of Shot and Shell. 



GALLANT SCKNES OK HEROISNl. 



LIVING WALLS SINK BENEATH THE TEBRIBLE FIRE. 



A DESPERATE STRUGGLE.— A GRAND VICTORY. 
MAY 3, 1863. 

H. H. BOWLES, Co. C, 6th Regiment Maine Volunteers. 




jURING the winter of 1863 there was organized in the 
Cth Corps what was known as the "light brigade." 
It was composed of the 6th Me., 5th Wis., 31st and 43d 
N. Y., and 61st Penn. — all volunteer regiments. These 
regiments were put under the command of Brig. -Gen. 
C. L. Pratt, of New York. Their badge was a "green cross," 
worn upon the cap. On the afternoon of April 29 it was under- 
stood that we were soon to move, and that evening we broke 
camp and started for the Rappahannock river. All night long 
we made pack mules of ourselves, lugging pontoons down to 
the river, and so quietly was this done, that when we had 
launched the pontoons no intimation of our doings had reached 
the enemy across the river. A detachment of our regiment and 
details from other regiments were ferried across, and captured 
the rebel pickets on the south bank of the river before they 
knew what was up. This was about two miles below the city of 
Fredericksburg. The next morning. May 3, dawned bright and 
clear, and the thunder of guns told us the battle was on. Our 
heavy batteries on Stafford Heights commenced shelling the 
rebel works in a steady and deliberate manner, and, ever and 



158 CAMP AND FIELD. 

anon, shells burst within our own lines. The light brigade 
marched, by the right flank, up the river and took position di- 
rectly in the rear of the city, and under Marye's Heights. To 
the surprise of all, came the news that General Pratt had re- 
signed and the command of the light brigade had devolved 
upon Col. Hiram Burnham, of the 6th Me., and that we were 
soon to assault the heights. Everything was got in read- 
iness, and that calm which precedes a storm rested for a few 
moments over the scene. The brigade was formed, as my 
memory serves me, 5th Wis., Colonel Allen, in advance, with 
five companies of this regiment as a double line of skirmishers; 
following the 5th Wis. came the 6th Me., under command of 
Lieut. -Col. B. F. Harris; on the right was, if I mistake not, 
the 43d N. Y., and the 31st N. Y., while farther to the right was 
the 61st Penn., Colonel Spear. Between ten and eleven o'clock 
the order was given to advance. The gallant Burnham, dis- 
daining the bugle call, rode down the line, and in stentorian 
voice gave the order: "Forward!" The command of Colonel 
Harris to the 6th Me. was: " Boys, we're going to charge those 
heights yonder, and we're going to take them, too. Arms 
aport, double quick, march!" And no grander sight was ever 
seen in the battles of the Army of the Potomac. Steadily the 
lines swept on over the beautiful green grass, soon to be 
reddened with the blood of so many of my comrades. 

The shot and shell flew like missiles from a tornado. The 
grape and canister hurled through the ranks, cutting great 
gaps in the living walls. Orders were: "Close up; steady, 
boys!" and the next time another voice gave the command. 
A case-shot or shrapnel had exploded at the head of the 61st 
Penn. regiment, killing Colonel Spear and fifteen men, and for 
a time throwing the regiment into confusion. We were now 
on the very ground where the brave Meagher and his noble 
Irishmen were so fearfully cut up on December 13, 1862. Of 
the 6th Me., Major Haycock had fallen, shot through the heart, 
and Captains Gray, Young, Ballenger, Buck, and Roach were 
down. We had reached the first line of rifle-pits, and the 6th 
Me. and the 5th Wis. wildly broke over the rifle-pits, carrying all 
before them, the rebels in this line throwing down their arms 
and marching to the rear. A few rods further on, just at the 
foot of the hill, we came to the second line of rifle-pits. Here 
the fighting was desperate. The Johnnies would not yield a 



CAMP AND FIELD. 159 

foot of ground, and our boys would not turn back. Our line 
was intact and firm. Although nearly every commissioned 
officer was killed or wounded, and companies were commanded 
by sergeants and corporals, the best of discipline prevailed, and 
the men fought with the courage of despair, maddened by their 
heavy loss, and the perfidy of the rebels who had surrendered 
in the first line, and, seeing us temporarily checked, attempted 
to shoot us from the rear. Men became fiends. The lumber 
men of Maine and Wisconsin, who had handled pick and spike 
all their lives on the rivers and log-jams, used their guns in the 
same manner. Mike Carey, a stalwart Irishman from the 
town of Topsfield, Me., when he saw the Johnnies breaking, 
cried out: " Hang Palfrey, boys! hang! boom 'em, damn 'em! 
boom 'em!" and jumping upon the earthworks he kicked a 
giant Confederate to the ground and drove his bayonet to the 
hilt in his breast. Corporal Brown used his gun as a club, and, 
like a mad demon, brained five men. A wiry little Frenchman, 
Willet by name, bayoneted man after man, and when implored 
by a rebel to spare him, for God's sake, cried: " Me know no 
God; you kill me, me kill you!" And above all this bellowed 
the guns above our heads, so near now that they could do but 
little harm. 

The line swept on, and now up the steep hill and over the 
escarpment of the stone wall pell-mell. Sergeant Gray, the 
color sergeant of the 6th, was knocked down and the colors 
badly shattered and torn. Sergeant Hill, of Co. C, 6th Me., 
grasped the flag, and springing upon the parapet just as a can- 
non was discharged, the smoke of which blackened his face, 
planted the standard firmly in the earth, and the stars and 
stripes floated gloriously from Marye's Heights, and the day 
was won. The Washington Battery was captured, and in our 
immediate front seven hundred men of Barksdale's brigade. 
The courage and heroism of the 5th Wisconsin in this action 
was not surpassed by that of any regiment in the field. Colo- 
nel Allen, badly wounded in the hand, fought like a tiger. 
Springing through an embrasure, sword in hand, he sabered a 
gunner at his post and mounted the gun in triumph. The other 
regiments in the brigade did equally well; and I must not pass 
by unmentioned the 7th Mass. on our right, under command of 
the heroic Colonel Johns, who led his men so well. The loss of 
the 6th Me. was one hundred and thirty-five officers and men, 



160 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



and that of the 5th Wis. about the same. Colonel Burnham, 
Colonel Allen, and Lieutenant-Colonel Harris went with their 
men up the heights, and were among the first to enter the 
enemy's works. Comrades, this was the storming of Marye's 
Heights as I saw it. All honor to you of the 7th Mass., and 
the Green Mountain boys on our left; but bear in mind this 
fact: The 6th Me. flag was the first one planted upon the 
Heights of St. Marye. 



'*aiii»4^' 



» ?< ■■■ 



OUR BRAVKS. 

By COL. CHAS. CLARKE. 
(Music, Keller's American Hymn.) 



O^^LEST be the ground where our 
Q/Q) braves are at rest, 

Honored each shrine where our 

martyrs repose. 
On through the ages to come shall be 

bless'd, 
Those who defended our land from its 

foes ; 
Guarded our land from its traitorous foes. 
Comrades, advance in the East and the 

West ! 
Scatter fresh garlands where martyrs 

repose, 
Plant the old flag where our braves are 

at rest ! 

Blest be this day bringing mem'ries so 

bright, 
Thrftughout the length and the breadth 

of our land. 
Stout were these hearts who fought 

stern for the right, 
B'*ve were the deeds of this strong 

patriot band. 



Valiant the heroes of our army grand I 
Comrades, advance and make sacred 

this rite. 
Twine your fresh laurel wreaths over 

the land, 
Hallow this day charg'd with mem'ries 

so bright. 

Bless thou our nation, thou God of the 

free. 
Vouchsafe that liberty our Fathers 

gave; 
Guard thou our country from sea unto 

sea — 
Soil which our heroes long struggled to 

save. 
Land of our sires, and redeemed by the 

brave. 
Comrades, this trust keep for millions 

to be, 
Ages to come will remember each 

grave. 
Cost of our nation so dear, yet so 

free! 




Contf derate Generals. 



BATTliE er RAYfflONB. 



MAY 12, 1863. 



How Gregg's Brigade Fought the Advance of Grant's Army in Mississippi. 

By WILLIAM E. CUNNINGHAM, Captain Company F, 41st Tennessee. 




HE morning of December 

11, 1863, was bright and 

pleasant. Our men after 

a march of two hundred 
miles from Port Hudson, La., 
were scattered about our camp 
one mile north of Jackson, 
Miss. Our march had been 
tedious, as Grierson's raid a 
short time before had played 
sad havoc with the railroad to 
New Orleans, leaving nothing 
for fifty miles but the hacked 
road-bed. The men were in groups about camp or enjoying a 
cool plunge in the waters of Pearl river, which ran close by. 
Many were the surmises as to our destination and as to the ob- 
ject of our march. Many an eye gleamed and brightened as 
some comrade ventured the prophecy that we were bound for 
Tennessee, for, with one exception, our brigade was composed 
of Tennessee regiments. These surmises were cut short by the 
sharp bugle blast which sounded the assembly. In a few min- 
utes we were ready, and a, short march brought us to a hill 
overlooking Jackson. Halting to form, we began the march 
through the city. The 41st Tenn., Colonel Farquhasson, was 
followed by the 3d Tenn., Colonel Walker; then came the 
10th Tenn, (Irish), Colonel McGavock; the 30th, Colonel Head; 
the 50th, Colonel Sugg; and the 1st Tenn. Battery, Major Combs, 
the rear was brought up by Colonel Granbury, 7th Tex., all 



162 CAMP AND FIELD, 

under command of that lamented soldier and gentleman, Gen- 
eral John Gregg, of Texas. As we moved down the wide road 
to the strains of "The Girl I Left Behind Me," I glanced back 
with a feeling of pride in the splendid array of gallant men, 
nearly all of whom I knew personally or by regiment. The 
streets and windows were crowded as we marched along, until 
we passed the depot and took the Raymond road. Raymond is 
the county seat, although Jackson is the state capital, both 
being in the same county. We soon met straggling cavalry, 
who stopped long enough to tell us of a cavalry raid up from 
Grand Gulf. We had been itching for a fight and could not 
have been suited better than to meet the raiders. The country 
was green with growing grain and presented a peaceful, happy, 
and contented appearance. The citizens met us kindly and 
wonderingly. No sound of strife had yet reached that retired 
spot. Early on the morning of the 12th, the town was overrun 
with soldiers, having what we called a '' high old time." In 
the midst of fun and feasting the long roll sounded and every 
man answered promptly. As General Gregg moved through 
the town, hundreds of people eagerly watched him, little 
dreaming of the carnage so soon to follow. He formed his 
command with the right, composed of the 41st Tenn., overlook- 
ing the Edwards depot road, and at intervals of fifty or one 
hundred yards successively, with Captain Graves' three-gun 
battery in the center, on the Grand Gulf road. This battery 
was supported by the 10th. We were expecting nothing but 
cavalry, which we felt we could whip. Skirmishers were ad- 
vanced in the thick black copse, and almost instantly the quiet 
was broken by the crack of the rifle, answered by the first big 
gun in our center. 

Suddenly the sound of the skirmisher's rifle was lost in the 
roar of musketry, while our three pieces belched defiance at 
the six gun battery of the enemy on the hill opposite. The 
force of the enemy was developed suddenly, for from right to 
left along our front of a mile, the battle opened at close range. 
At this junction. Colonel McGavock advanced to charge the 
battery, supported by the 3d. We all saw him as with gallant 
bearing he led his men forward, capturing four guns. This 
was as gallant a charge as was ever made against terrible odds. 
In the moment of success, McGavock fell, shot through the 
heart. Major Grace took command only to fall from a severe 



CAMP AND FIELb. 163 

wound. The fighting around the battery was bloody in the ex- 
treme. The 3d moved up in support, and in ten minutes 190 of 
the 500 men, comprising their number, were killed or w^ounded. 
By this time the battle along the whole line was raging with 
incredible fury. At the one hundred and thirteenth round one 
of Bledsoe's guns burst. Still we held our ground and had pos- 
session of the captured guns. General Gregg believed that we 
had encountered something heavier than cavalry, and by ex- 
amining captured prisoners found that they represented eight- 
een different regiments. A whole corps was in our front. 
There was a choice of two things left us — to retreat in the face 
of such numbers or to wait until we were entirely surrounded. 
He decided upon a retreat and this we accomplished success- 
fully, even moving our shattered guns to Mississippi Springs, 
six miles from the battle-field, where we bivouacked for the 
night. On our retreat through Raymond, we saw ladies with 
quilts and bandages tenderly caring for our wounded. They 
would not leave even after the enemy's shells were flying and 
crashing through the streets and houses. Mournfully we took 
up our line of retreat, carrying off our slightly wounded pris- 
oners to the number of 280. 

With GOOO men, Gregg had met the advance of Grant's army 
and had resisted him in a regular battle of eight hours. Our 
loss was over ten per cent., or 050 men killed and wounded. The 
history of the war furnishes few instances where the heroic 
gallantry of Southern soldiers showed to better advantage. 
After the lapse of years, the memory of Raymond, fought by a 
single brigade of Confederates against fearful odds, stands out 
as one of the most remarkable and hard fought battles of the 
war. Not one of the regimental commanders are now alive, and 
Gregg himself fought his last fight in front of Petersburg and 
sleeps with the rest. This fight proved to be the second act in 
Pemberton's grand drama of the " Fall of Vicksburg." 



In the Wilderness. — The battle of Remarkable Record.— Company H. 

the Wilderness was brought on by Gen- 4th Wisconsin, numbering nearly two 

eral Griffin advancing two brigades, hundred men, served for five years, and 

Ayres's and Bartlett's, and those two only lost three men by disease, a record 

brigades first grappled with the brigade said by the Surgeon-General to be with' 

of rebels under General Heath. out parallel in this or any other war. 



The Episode of Patrick Connolly. 



By BET. JOHN F. MOORS, 62d Massachusetts Regiment. 





FTER we had been in 
camp several weeks at 
Baton Rouge, and had 
received several mails 
from home, I saw a little Irish 
fellow, Pat Connolly, looking 
sad and disconsolate, while the 
others were reading their 
freshly received letters. I 
asked him if he had not re- 
ceived any letters. He replied: 
" No. There is no one to write 
to me. I never had a letter in 
my life." "Have you no rela- 
tives?" I asked. "No," he 
said, ** not one." I learned his 
story, and took care ever after- 
ward to have a kind word for 
him whenever I met him, 
which he repaid with the af- 
fection of a warm and gener- 
ous nature. If when on guard 
or picket he was able to secure 
a canteen of milk or some fresh 
eggs, he was careful to see 
that the chaplain had a share. 
On the night after the battle 
at Irish Bend I secured a 



length of rail fence for my 
own use, while the rest was 
speedily turned into kindling- 
wood, to cook the coffee. I 
took off the top rails and laid 
them over the bottom ones to 
secure a shelter for the night. 
When thus employed Pat came 
up and said he was looking for 
me, as he had heard I was sick 
and without any blanket. I 
was a good deal used up, and 
my blanket and horse had 
been left behind and would not 
be up for a day or two. Pat 
at once offered to share his 
blanket with me. I declined, 
as kindly as I could. Pat was 
not neat, and I knew that if I 
accepted his offer to share his 
blanket, I should have more 
bed-fellows than I wanted. As 
I crawled from under the rails 
next morning, Pat stood by, 
waiting to offer to carry my 
haversack. He had his own 
gun, cartridge-box, knapsack, 
and haversack to carry. I 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



165 



told him we were to have a 
forced march that day and he 
must look out for himself. I 
had nothing but my empty 
haversack. It was a hard 
march. At night our horses 
came up, and I had a blanket 
to wrap about me as we lay in 
an open field. 

The next day I found Pat, as 
our straggling line made its 
way over the broad plains of 
western Louisiana. He had 
confiscated a horse, which he 
was leading by a rope; too un- 
selfish to ride, he had piled as 
many knapsacks of Co. B men 
as he could upon the horse, 
and thus relieved the tired and 
footsore men of a portion of 
their burden. At night Pat's 
horse and the chaplain's were 
tied side by side, and shared 
their rations between them, 
Pat close by as guard to 
both. The next day came an 
order to have all confiscated 
horses turned over to the quar- 
termaster. I was eager to save 
Pat's horse for the good he was 
doing the company in carry- 
ing their knapsacks. While I 
was meditating how we could 
save the horse, the quarter- 
master rode up and ordered 
the knapsacks off, and the 
horse turned over to him. 
Some one near me called out, 
"That is the lieutenant- 
colonel's horse, sir." "Well, 
let him go then," replied the 



quartermaster. It was a stretch 
of the truth, but it was not the 
only time the truth was 
stretched all it would bear dur- 
ing the war. Pat kept his 
horse through all that long 
march, and then turned him 
over to the quartermaster. 

All went well with Pat till 
the siege of Port Hudson. On 
the day before the assault of 
the 14th of June, Pat was made 
happy by the arrival of two 
letters which I had caused to 
be written to him, one by my 
wife. He showed them to me 
with great delight. He passed 
unscathed through the fierce 
battle of June 14. The next 
day as he lay behind a log, 
near the enemy's works, he 
thought he saw a head he 
could hit; he fired, and, in the 
excitement, popped up his own 
head to see if he had hit. A 
dozen bullets flew at him and 
one struck him in the forehead 
and killed him instantly. The 
following night two men crept 
in to where the body lay. They 
found in his pockets the cher- 
ished letters. That was all. 
They threw a few shovels of 
earth over the dead body, and 
that was the last of the good- 
natured, affectionate, unself- 
ish, friendless Irish boy, Pat 
Connolly. There was no one 
at home to mourn his death. I 
shall always chferish his mem- 
ory with tender affection. 




A SURGEON'S 

FIRST AND LAST SIGHT OF A BEAUTIFUL SILKEN BANNER. 

A * Brave * Lover * Buried * with ^^^ tbe * Flag * Upon * His * Breast. 

JULY 4, 1863. 

DR. H. L. RUSSELL, Surgeon Alabama Regiment. 

- ^^t^^ 

OLONEL ALTON/' said a fair young Alabama lady, ''in 
behalf of the ladies of this village and vicinity, allow 
me to present to the regiment, through you, this silken 
emblem of our country, made by our own hands, a 
fitting tribute to the valor displayed in the uprising of the regi- 
ment to protect our homes." 

"Ladies," responded the colonel, "in behalf of the regiment 
I thank you. Trust me, the flag will be held sacred by us all, 
and we will protect it with our lives, ever looking forward 
hopefully to the time when, our mission accomplished, we can 
with honor bring it back again to Alabama." 

" Now," said the colonel, "who among us considers this flag 
worth his life and will volunteer to carry it?" It seemed as if 
there was a forward movement of the whole regiment, but like 
a flash of light, in front of all stepped a young man, the finest 
type of Southern manly beauty that I ever saw. " Colonel 
Alton," he exclaimed, " let me carry the flag." 

The young lady stepped quickly forward and touched the 
colonel lightly on the arm. 

"Please let Louis have it," she pleaded; "I know he will be 
worthy of the trust." 

" Well, so be it," replied the colonel, as taking Louis Peyton's 
musket he returned in its place the staff of the beautiful banner. 

Engagement followed engagement, but no man looked in 
vain for his colors. Always at the front, cool and determined, 
stood our color-bearer, and as one after another of the color- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 167 

guard were brought back I began to think that Louis Peyton 
bore a charmed Ufe. 

July 4, 1863. What a day for history! Vicksburg, Gettys- 
burg, Helena, the first of a downward grade of disaster, the 
end of which was Appomattox. It was extremely necessary, 
owing to the fact that Vicksburg and Port Hudson were 
doomed, that some other point on the Mississippi should be 
held by the Confederates or else the Confederacy would be cut 
in twain. 

So we were marching to attack Helena, a fortified position on 
the west bank of the Mississippi, held by about 4,500 Federals 
under General Prentiss, while the Confederate commands un- 
der Generals Price and Holmes were considerably above that 
number. Anticipating an easy victory, as our scouts had re- 
ported the river free from gunboats, we pressed close to the 
Federal position on the night of the 3d, and at daybreak, the 
4th, commenced the attack. 

A fog had formed in the night, shutting the river from our 
view, but it gradually disappeared, and we beheld upon the 
stream one of our most powerful enemies, the famous gunboat 
Taylor, whose terrible rain of shot and shell forced the Confed- 
erate reserves from the field, and destroyed Beauregard's great 
charge in the first day's fight at Shiloh. She roared this day, 
and every roar of her guns meant death in our ranks; 050 shots 
in two hours and a half she poured into the ranks of the gray. 
Neither iron nor steel, let alone fiesh and blood, could stand 
that terrible fire. 

After several unsuccessful attempts to hold captured posi- 
tions on the left, my regiment, with others, were ordered to 
charge a battery situated upon a hill, the key of the Federal 
position, in hopes to turn the guns against the boat. 

The men advanced quickly out on the grassy clearing, which 
sloped gently downward into a narrow valley, then rose again 
to the battery. 

As with wild cheers they went, the fire of every available 
point was brought to bear upon them. Boom! boom! whiz-z, 
bl-bloop, the terrible shells from the gunboat tear through the 
ranks of gray, but still they go on. The air is filled with 
shrapnel from bursting shells. The gunboat's sides fairly 
blaze with fire; still the gray ranks waver not. They have 
reached the valley, are ascending the hill; once within the 



168 CAMP AND FIELD. 

battery they are secure from the gunboat's shells, and they 
press grimly on. 

I watched the scene with fearful interest, and noted how 
steadily the colors moved, and I thought of Louis Peyton, and 
felt grateful that his anxious lover in Alabama could not see 
him there. A moment more and I beheld him at the parapet, 
and in spite of all the endeavors to prevent it I saw the colors 
pass over the wall, and then there came to my ears the curses, 
yells, and cheers of a hand-to-hand fight. I noticed the Stars 
and Stripes fall to the ground, but only for a moment. Through 
the rift of smoke I saw it again held aloft by its brave defenders, 
who rallied around their beautiful banner and fought on. 

A regiment of Federal cavalry, stationed close to the river, 
dismounted and leaving their horses to the care of a few, 
started up a steep, narrow path, leading to the battery, and 
with surprising coolness entered the battery, and were soon 
engaged in the death grapple. It was but a few moments 
until the Confederates broke over the parapet in retreat. As 
the mass reached the open space again, I saw the colors of our 
regiment, but in an instant they vanished. Boom, boom, boom, 
the terrible shells crash through struggling mass of gray, and 
in the intervals between the bursting of the shells I heard the 
bursting of the grapeshot and saw the dead fall in windrows, 
obstructing the living. In that terrible scene our colors re- 
appeared for an instant and then went down. 

In the maddening rush that followed I was carried from the 
field. 

Being in the rear, I soon found myself a prisoner to the Fed- 
eral cavalry, and in looking up to the officer, was agreeably 
surprised to hear my name spoken, and to recognize an old 
college friend. A quick grasp of the hand, a few kind words, 
and I started for the Federal lines under escort. I asked per- 
mission to go upon the field to assist in alleviating the suffer- 
ing of the wounded, which request was granted. With little 
difficulty I reached the "Valley of Death," finding to my in- 
tense satisfaction a number of Confederate surgeons, like my- 
self, bent on aiding suffering humanity. Stumbling along, 
looking for those to help, I heard my name called by a brother 
surgeon. I hastened to his side. 

"Here is your color-bearer!" he exclaimed, pointing to a 
prostrate form, which I instantly recognized as Louis Peyton. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



169 



But what a change! The silken flag he had so proudly carried 
lay upon his breast, torn into such small strips a finger would 
cover any one of them. A burly dead Confederate soldier lay 
across his limbs, which we found were both shattered by grape- 
shot. A quick examination revealed a slight movement of the 
heart, and quick as thought I put my brandy flask to his lips. 
His eyes opened, slowly, wearily; looking at me the old light 
seemed to spring to their orbits again. He struggled to speak, 
and bending low I listened. 

" Doc — Doc — the colors — Doc," he hoarsely whispered. 

"Yes, Louis, the colors are here," I replied. 

" Don't— let— them— take it— Doc." 

" No, Louis, they will not take it," I answered. 

'' I — tore it — Doc — tell — the girls — that — I — I — " and with a 
smile he closed his eyes on this world, and the grim ranks of 
death had taken in our color-bearer. 

In a short time I found my friend, the Federal officer, and 
taking him to the body, I told him the story of the flag. Leav- 
ing me abruptly, he soon returned with a burial party, and 
although they were burying the Confederate dead in the 
trenches, they gave our color-bearer single burial, leaving his 
flag upon his breast as they found it, excepting two pieces that 
I sent home to Alabama. 



DKCORATION DAY. 



CJ^LOWERS for the feet of Peace, 
^^ Sweet rose and lily •white, 
°6~^ As she retreads the road, 

The blood-red road of fight ; 
The waving corn and wheat 

For the long, hot lanes of war : 
For bastions fringed with tiame, 
The light of Freedom's star. 

Flowers for the resting brave ! 

So every grave shall be 
An altar fresh and green 

Sacred to Liberty, 



An altar green and sweet 
For the true heart beneath — 

For each the rose of love, 
For each the laurel wreath. 

Peace, peace, and sweetest fame 

'O'er all the land to-day ! 
No anger and no blame 

Between the Blue and Gray. 
To you, heroic dead, 

Resting in dreamless calm, 
We bring the rose of love. 

The victor's stainless palm. 



LiBBY's Bright Side. 



A Silver Lining in the Dark Cloud of Prison Life. 



A Reduced Fac-Simile Hand Bill of a Famous Christmas Entertainment. 
Pastimes and Amusements. 

By FRANK E. MORAN, Captain 73d N. Y. Volunteers. 



"^— 2*^-«^ 



^^^HE popular belief concerning Libby prison is, that it 
•fV^ was a gloomy dungeon, where social pleasure never en- 
'u^^^ tered, and where horrors accumulated upon horror's head. 
A full and fair investigation will establish the fact that this 
popular conception is erroneous to a considerable degree, and it 
is my present purpose to bring to light a few of the pleasures 
of the place. I shall not attempt to present them in symmetrical 
order, but to give them as they arise in memory, after the lapse 
of years. If what I shall recall partakes somewhat after the 
nature of a personal recollection, it must be remembered that 
every prisoner had a personal experience that materially dif- 
fered from that of his comrade. 

It was my misfortune to fall wounded into the hands of 
the Confederates in the battle of Gettysburg, and to remain 
a prisoner for twenty months. The first part of the time 
was spent in Libby prison and the remainder of the time in 
Macon, Ga., and at Charleston and Columbia, S. C. Having 
been captured the second day of the battle of Gettysburg, I 
witnessed the final struggle from behind the Confederate line, 
and was directly in the rear of Pickett's division when its mag- 
nificent charge was made to break the Union left center. A 
column of prisoners accompanied the retreat of the Confeder- 
ate army, crossing the swollen Potomac at Williamsport in a 
torrent of rain. Our route toward Richmond was through the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 171 

devastated valley of the Shenandoah, our journey on foot being 
not much less than two hundred miles. The column arrived in 
Richmond on July 18, 18G3, and we were conducted under 
guard toward the southeastern border of the city, followed by 
a boisterous mob of men, women, and children. We halted 
in front of an antiquated building, over the office of which 
there creaked upon rusty hinges a small weather-beaten sign, 
bearing the inscription, " Libby & Sons, Ship Chandlers and 
Grocers." 

The man Libby was a native of Maine, who, prior to the 
war, owned and occupied the premises, never dreaming that 
the modest sign — scarcely larger than a washboard — would be 
the means of linking his name forever w^ith the most noted of 
military prisons, and withal the most interesting landmark of 
the rebellion. The building had a frontage from east to west 
of 145 feet, and a depth from north to south of 105 feet. It 
stood isolated from other buildings, with streets passing its 
front, rear, and west ends, and with a vacant space on the 
east of about sixty feet in width. The portion of the building 
devoted to the use of the prisoners consisted of nine rooms, 
each 10:i feet in length by forty-five feet in breadth. The ceil- 
ing was eight feet high, except in the upper rooms, which were 
higher, better lighted, and better ventilated, owing to the pitch 
of the roof. Rickety, unbanistered stairs led from the lower 
to the upper rooms, and all the rooms of the upper floors were 
connected by doors, leaving free access from one to the other. 
With the exception of a few rude bunks and tables in the 
upper and lower west rooms, which were respectively termed 
"Streight's room" and " Milroy's room," and four long tables 
in the lower middle or "kitchen room," there was no furniture 
in the prison. The north windows commanded a partial view 
of the hilly portion of the city. From the east the prisoners 
could look off toward the Rocketts and City Point. The south 
windows looked out upon the canal and James river, with Man- 
chester opposite and Belle Isle, while from the windows of the 
upper west room could be seen Castle Thunder, Jefferson 
Davis's mansion, and the Confederate capital, 

Libby prison was a vast museum of human character, where 
the chances of war had brought into close communion every 
type and temperament; where military rank was wholly ig- 
nored, and all shared a common lot. At the time referred to, 



172 CAMP AND FIELD. 

there were about 1200 Union officers there, of all ranks, and 
representing every loyal state. They were not men who woulci 
have sought each other's society from natural or social affinity, 
but men who had been involuntarily forced together by the 
fortunes of war, which, like politics, often *' makes strange bed- 
fellows," There were men of all sizes and nationalities. 
Youth and age, and titled men of Europe, who had enlisted 
in our cause, might be found among the captives. There were 
about thirty doctors, as many ministers, a score of journalists 
and lawyers, a few actors, and a proportionate representation 
from all trades and professions that engage men in civil life. 
Among them were travelers and scholars, who had seen the 
world, and could entertain audiences for hours with narratives 
of their journeyings; indeed, among the attractions of the 
prison was the pleasure derived by intimate association with 
men of bright and cultured minds; men who had often led 
their squadrons on the tough edge of battle and who in their 
history presented the best types of modern chivalry. It was 
indeed a remarkable gathering and the circumstances are not 
likely to arise that will reassemble its counterpart again in this 
generation. All in all, Libby prison, from the vast mixture of 
its inmates, and from all its peculiar surroundings, was doubt- 
less the best school of human nature ever seen in this country. 

It will not seem strange, therefore, that men of such varied 
talents, tastes, and dispositions, shipwrecked in this peculiar 
manner, should begin to devise ways and means to turn the 
tedious hours of prison life to some account. To this end meet- 
ings and consultations were held to set on foot amusements and 
instruction for the prisoners. 

A minstrel troupe was organized, and its talent would com- 
pare favorably with some professional companies of to-day. A 
number of musical instruments were purchased, forming a re- 
spectable orchestra. 

Refreshing music often enlivened the place when the weary- 
souled prisoner had laid down for the night. If there ever was 
a time and place when that old melody, '* Home Sweet Home," 
touched the tenderest chords of the soldier's heart, it was on 
Christmas Eve of 1863, behind the barred windows of Libby 
prison. Chess, checkers, cards, or such other games occupied 
much of our time. Some busied themselves with making bone 
rings or ornaments, many of them carved with exquisite skill. 



CAMP AND FIT^LD. 173 

In the upper east room General Di Cesnola — then colonel of 
the 4th N. Y. Cavalry — instructed a class of officers in the 
school of the battalion. In the upper east room Colonel Cavuda, 
of the 114th Penn., wrote his book afterwards published and 
widely read, entitled '' Libby Life." The dream of his life was 
to free his native island from Spanish rule. At every hour of 
the day learned linguists taught classes in French, German, 
Spanish, and all popular languages. Phonography was taught 
as well as grammar, arithmetic, and other branches. A book 
in Libby was the object of immeasurable envy, and I remem- 
ber on seeing an officer with Hugo's " Les Miserables," I sought 
out the owner, put my name down on his list of applicants to 
borrow it, and my turn came six months afterwards. Dancing 
was among the accomplishments taught, and it was truly 
refreshing to see grave colonels tripping the "light fantastic," 
Under the ministers daily and nightly prayer meetings were 
held. It was not infrequent to see a lively breakdown at one 
end of the room and a prayer meeting at the other; to hear the 
loud tum of the banjo mingling with the solemn melody of 
the doxology. The doctors endeavored to enlighten audiences 
by occasional lectures on "Gunshot Wounds," "Amputation," 
"The effect of starvation on the human system," and other 
cheerful topics. 

Gen. Neal Dow, of Maine, eloquently warned his fellow pris- 
oners against the blighting evils of intemperance. While the 
general was a prisoner his cotton mill at Portland was burned, 
and one of the Richmond papers copying the news substituted 
for "mills" the word "distillery," a cruel joke on the earnest 
general. A debating society was formed, and all manner of 
subjects were discussed, bringing to light a goodly number of 
eloquent speakers, who have since achieved fortune and dis- 
tinction throughout the country. A form of amusement at 
night when the lights were out was what was termed the 
"catechism," which consisted of loud questions and answers, 
mimicries and cries, which when combined and in full blast, 
made a pandemonium, compared with which a madhouse or a 
boiler foundry would have been a peaceful refuge. 

Such cries as " Tead, of Reading! " " Pack up! " " Who 
broke the big rope?" "Who stole Mosby's hash?" and 
"Who shaved the nigger of the truck?" were as intelligible 
as Choctaw to the uninitiated, but plain enough to those who 



174 CAMP AND FIELD. 

used them, alluding as they did to events and persons of the 
prison. 

At night the prisoners covered the floor completely, lying in 
straight rows like prostrate lines of battle, and when one rolled 
over all must necessarily do the same. It was inevitable that 
among such large numbers there should appear the usual inflic- 
tion of snorers, whose discord at times drew a terrific broadside 
of boots, tin cans, and other convenient missiles, which invari- 
ably struck the wrong man. Among our number was one 
officer whose habit of grinding his teeth secured him a larger 
share of room at night than was commonly allowed to a pris- 
oner, and his comrades hoped that a special exchange might 
restore him to his family ; for certainly he was a man that 
would be missed wherever he had lodged. On a memorable 
night when this gentleman was entertaining us with his " tooth 
solo," one comrade who had been kept awake for the three 
previous nights, after repeatedly shouting to the nocturnal 
minstrel to "shut up," arose in wrath, and, picking his steps 
in the dark among his prostrate comrades, arrived at last near 
a form which he felt certain was that of the disturber of the 
peace. With one mighty effort, he bestowed a kick in the ribs 
of the victim, and hurriedly retreated to his place. Then arose 
the kicked officer, wlio was not the grinder at all, and made an 
address to his invisible assailant, employing terms and vigorous 
adjectives not seen in the New Testament, vehemently declar- 
ing in a brilliant peroration that it was enough to be com- 
pelled to spend wakeful nights beside a man who made nights 
hideous with serenades, without being kicked for him. He 
resumed his bed amid thunderous applause, during which the 
grinder was awakened and was for the first time made aware of 
the cause of the enthusiasm. 

The spirit of Yankee enterprise was well illustrated by the 
publication of a newspaper by the energetic chaplain of a New 
York regiment. It was entitled The Libby Prison Chronicle. 
True, there were no printing facilities at hand, but, undaunted 
by this difficulty, the editor obtained and distributed quantities 
of manuscript paper among the prisoners who were leaders in 
their several professions, so that there was soon organized an 
extensive corps of able correspondents, local reporters, poets, 
punsters, and witty paragraphers, that gave the Chronicle a 
pronounced success. Pursuant to previous announcement, the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



175 



"■ editor "' on a stated day each 
"week, would take up his posi- 
tion in the center of the upper 
east room, and, surrounded by 
an audience limited only by 
the available space, would read 
the articles contributed during 
the week, 

" The Prison Minstrels" were 
deservedly popular. The troupe 
was organized and governed 
by strictly professional rules. 
Nothing but the possession and 
display of positive mucical or 
dramatic talent could com- 
mand prominence, and as a 
natural consequence it was a 
common occurrence to see a 
second lieutenant carrying off 
the honors of the play, and the 
colonel of his regiment carry- 
ing off the chairs as a "supe." 
Our elephant, by the way, de- 
serves especial mention, not 
only because of his peculiar 
construction, but because both 
intellectually and physically 
he differed from all elephants 
we had previously seen. The 
animal was composed of four 
United States officers, which 
certainly gave him unusual 
rank. One leg was a major, 
a second a naval officer, a third 
a captain of cavalry, and the 
last leg was by the happy 
thought of the astute manager 
an army surgeon, A quantity 
of straw formed the body; the 
tusks and trunk were impro- 
vised from the meager re- 



PRISON 

MINSTRELS! 

Managek, .... i,t. G. \V. Chandler 
Thkasi KER, - - - . dipt. II. W.Siwyer 

Co.sTiMRH, Lt. .].]'.. Tones 

ScF.MC AuTisT, Lt. Fentress 

('APTAiN iiF THE Supers, - - - Lt. Bristow 

THURSDAY EVENING, DEO. 24th, 1863. 
PROQRAMNIE, 

PART FIRST, 

Overture— "Norma" Troupe 

Opening Chokus— "Ernani" Teoupe 

Song— Who will care for Mother now . 

("APT. SCHELL 

Song— Grafte'l ni tlie Army . Libit. Kendall 
Song— When the 151oom is on the Kye . 

Adjt. Lombard 

Song— Piani-yaid Imitations . . . Capt. Mass 
Song— III) tlirv think of me at Home Adjt. Jones 
Chorus— rhanloni '1'roupe 

PART SECOND. 

Duet— Violin and Flute— Serenade from "Lucia," 

Lienis. Chandler and Rockwell 

Song and Dance— Root Hog or Die . Capt. Mass 

Ban]0 Solo Lieut. Thomas 

Duet— Dying Girl's Last Kerinest 

Adjts. Loniliard and .Tones 
Magic Violin. Capts. Mass, Chandli r nnd Ki'ndall 
Song— My Father's Custom . . Lieut. .McCaidley 
Clog Dance Lieut. l!yan 

-II II /f-ii/r^o 

Joe Skimmerhorn Capt. Mass 

George Iverson Lt. Randolph 

PART THIRD. 

Proprietor Capt. JIass 

I5oY Lt. Randolph 

Countryman Maj. Meiper 

-Maxacei: Ad.it. Jones 

Door-Keeper Capt. Mass 

JlrsiciAN Lt. Chandler 

Member of the Press Lt. Ryan 

JIosE Lt. Welsh 

Black Swan Lt. JIoran 

Broadway Swell Lt. Bennett 

Richard III Capt. McWilliams 

THE WHOLE TO CONCLUDE WITH A 

%'*'*<'*^ ^^^'^-^ 

rforniance to commence at C o'clock.«gQ 

FREE-CMldren in Arms Not Admitted. 

Adjt. R. c. kna(;gs, 

Business Agent. 



176 CAMP AND FIELD. 

sources of our "property room." The whole was covered in- 
geniously by five army blankets. Indeed the elephant, seen by 
the "footlights'" (four candles set in bottles), was pronounced 
by the critics of The Libby Prison Chronicle "a masterpiece 
of stage mechanism." 

It happened one evening when it was determined to compli- 
ment the efficient management with a rousing benefit, that two 
officers, whose duty it was to impersonate the hind legs of the 
elephant, were unable to appear on account of sudden illness, 
and their places had to be filled at the last moment by two 
other officers, who volunteered for the emergency. This was 
an acknowledged kindness on the part of the volunteers, but 
their acceptance of the parts without sufficient rehearsal proved 
exceedingly embarrassing to the management and positively 
disastrous to the elephant himself, or, to speak more accurately, 
to themselves. At the appointed time the elephant appeared, 
his entree being greeted with the usual round of applause. In 
spite of the lack of preparation the wonderful tricks of the 
animal were very creditably performed and enthusiastically 
recogrfized by the crowded house. The anxious manager was 
happy as he gave the signal at last for exit. Most unfortunately 
at this vital moment certain strange convulsive actions of the 
animal revealed the painful fact that a positive difference of 
opinion existed between the fore and hind legs of the animal as 
at which side of the stage the exit should be made. In vain the 
perspiring manager hissed from the wings: "To the right, gen- 
tlemen! For God's sake, go to the right! " A murmur of excite- 
ment ran through the audience, the convulsions of the animal 
grew more and more violent, and excited people in the audience 
shouted loudly: "The elephant's got a fit!" "The monster 
is poisoned!" "Play the hose on him!" "Down in front!" 
"Police!" A perfect babel ensued, in the midst of which the 
seams of the blanket gave way and the shrieking audience 
witnessed the extraordinary spectacle of an elephant walking 
off in four different directions, each leg fiercely gesticulating 
at the other and exchanging epithets more pungent than par- 
liamentary. The despairing manager had no alternative but 
to ring down the curtain, but in his excitement he pulled the 
wrong rope, the sky fell down on the heads of the orchestra, 
and the show ended for the evening. The stage was at the 
northern end of the kitchen, and was formed by joining four 



CAMP AND FIELD. 177 

long tables. The curtain was made of army blankets sewed 
together, and was suspended by small rings to a horizontal 
wire over the heads of the orchestra. It could be drawn to- 
gether and apart at the manager's signal bell. 

One of the best performances given was on Christmas Eve, 
1863. That night the room was crowded with men who felt a 
homesickness that needed some mental physic such as we pro- 
posed to give. It was a time for thoughts of wives, children, 
and sweethearts at the North, and perhaps our play did them 
good. Programmes, neatly printed in the prison, from which 
a reduced fac-simile has been made, were freely circulated. 

The most exciting event in the prison's history was the famous 
tunnel escape, February, 1864, by which 110 of the prisoners 
gained their liberty — or rather about half of them — fifty of the 
number being retaken outside the Richmond works, the writer 
being one of those recaptured. The tunnel was certainly an 
ingenious and perilous work, projected and completed under 
the direction of Col. Thomas E. Rose, of the 77tli Penn. Regt., 
who escaped through it, but was unfortunately retaken. 

Considerable excitement was caused by the arrival of a 
woman at Libby in the uniform of a Union soldier, she having 
been discovered among the prisoners on Belle Isle in an almost 
frozen and famished condition. Inquiry revealed the fact that 
she had in this garb enlisted in a Western cavalry regiment in 
order to follow the fortunes of her lover, who was an officer in 
another company of the same command. 

In a skirmish in East Tennessee, she had the ill luck to be 
made a prisoner. Her case naturally awakened active sympa- 
thy amongst hot fellow prisoners, and a collection of money 
was made by them to i^rocure her a supply of clothing, so that 
she might be sent home by the next flag of truce. 

It would fill an interesting volume to sketch briefly the lives 
and experience of the men who have been within the walls of 
Libby or to trace their career since. Many have since fallen 
upon the battle field, and a sad number have died from the 
effects of their long imprisonment. 

Some have since become the governors of states and some 
have held seats in the Cabinet. Their voices have been heard 
in Congress, at the bar, and in the pulpit, and their names will 
remain a proud heritage to their children and their country. 




Battle of Vicksburg. 

MAY 22, 1868. 

•eroie « ©fieir^e: # of # tfie # |st ^ Brigade. 

MINIE. GRAPE, CANISTER. AND SHELL.— A SCORCHING 
SHEET OF FLAME. 

C. I). nOKUIS. ronipaiiT E, S3d Illinois. 

HE "^'Ai of ;May. 1803, is a dark spot in the memory of 
many, and there is scarcely one of the old guard who 
either does not carry a reminder of it on his person or 
points to that fatal day as the last on earth of some 
cherished comrade. 

Carr's division liad hot work on the 21st in mov- 
ing into position near the railroad. Every move 
was greeted with storms of grape and canister and 
the ever-present song of the minie. The 1st Brig- 
ade, consisting of the ood 111., Stli and 11th Ind., ■""- 
and 99th 111., commanded by Brigadier-General Benton, was 
moved up to within three hundred yards of the enemy's works 
the evening of the '21st. and passed the night under the shelter 
of an abrupt hill. We had muskets as bed-fellows, and empty 
stomachs and full cartridge-boxes, with which to dream of the 
morrow. Those of us who had been sharpshooting until day- 
light of the 32d knew something of what was before us, and 
when another company came and relieved us at dawn of the 
22d, so that we might lead the charge that day. the gallant 
Major Elliott said that he appreciated the compliment, but that 
many a brave boy would fall that day. A spirit of solemnity 
seemed to pervade the brigade as it massed in view of the 
enemy. Men congregated in little groups conversing in un- 
dertones. Letters conveving a last farewell were hurriedlv 




CAMP AND FIELD. 179 

written, messages and keepsakes were given to comrades by 
those who knew this was to be their last charge. Yet they did 
not hesitate; and to my personal knowledge their sad presenti- 
ment was verified in almost every case. Officers, outwardly 
calm, moved aimlessly ah)out, anxiously consulting their time- 
pieces. Aides from brigade headquarters came and went, run- 
ning the gantlet, and dodging the shells that came shrieking 
down the ravines. As the hour of ten drew nigh the four colo- 
nels — Lippencott of the 3'Sd, Washburneof the 18th, Schenck of 
the Sth, and Baily of the 99th — held a consultation, and, to see 
who should lead the brigade, cast lots for position. It was won 
by Colonel Baily of the 09th; the 33d next, then the 18th and Sth. 
Our artillery were emptying their limber-boxes as fast as muscle 
and powder could do it, and as the decisive moment ap- 
proached, it seemed as though their exertions were redoubled, 
and that the sulphurous blast of flame and smoke, and the mur- 
derous roar would stifle and crush us. Men sprang to their 
feet, grasping their nmskets with a grip of iron. Officers 
tightened their belts, and in quick, fiery words gave the com- 
mand. "Fall in!" In an instant the brazen mouths that for 
three hours had spoken, were for the first time, silent. The 
men forming Grant's army crouched with nerves of steel, ready 
to spring upon their foe. They came as conquerors, and were 
anxious to try issues with their enemy, even in his stronghold. 
Colonel Baily — divested of coat and vest, and with arms 
bared to the elbow — sprang to the head of his regiment, and 
with the single word, "Forward I" sent the hot blood tingling 
through our veins. The hour of nervous waiting — the hardest 
part to bear in patience — was over. Our course was around the 
base of a hill and up by the right flank, through a narrow defile, 
until the crest was nearly reached, and there, as we swung 
into line, not one hundred yards away, burst a withering, 
scorching sheet of flame, unmerciful in its intensity, sent 
forth by desperate men. Hundreds went down. The gallant 
Baily fell grievously wounded. The 99th could go no further. 
The 33d, charging over the same ground, fared not even so well, 
for as we came into line the same fearful l)last struck and virt- 
ually annihilated us; for in that day's work, out of nearly 
sixty men there were only seven or eight to report for duty 
the next morning, and some of these were bruised and 
wounded. The 18th and 8tli, coming up quickly, met much the 



180 CAMP AND FIELD, 

same fate; some of them, with scattering ones from the two 
preceding regiments, turned to the right, and Colonel Wash- 
burne, of the 18th, found partial shelter in an angle of their 
works, and there, with the missiles of death raining around, 
the hot sun pouring down, amidst the wail of the wounded, the 
fierce yell of the victors, the incessant roar of musketry, we 
kept them down in our front; death stared us in the face if we 
remained or if we attempted to get down. Some of our colors 
were planted on the walls of the fort. Washburne's ringing 
voice could be heard above the din, shouting encouragement to 
us. 

McClernand, away in the rear, called loudly on Grant for 
help. We knew it was madness to send men there. Grant, as 
near to us as McClernand, thought as much. The rebel rifle-pits 
to our left could fire upon us, and every now and then some 
poor fellow would go down. The terrors of that day made men 
grow old. The appeal for help was answered. Boomer's 
brigade attempted to reach us, but they could get no nearer 
than two hundred yards. Boomer himself was killed. We 
then knew to stay longer was useless, and so, one by one, we 
stole away, running the gantlet for life and liberty. 

No one can describe that terrible day. Individual deeds of 
heroism would fill a volume. 



RELIEVED BY THE REBELS. 

H. H. BOWLES, Company C, 6th Maine. 



{N the affair at Salem Church, where called in. In fact part of the line was 

the 6th Corps was nearly surrounded captured. Just at this time General 

and came near being captured, Colo- Sedgwick, seeing Colonel Ellmaker, 

nel EUmaker, of the 119tli Penn., was hastily rode up to him and impatiently 

ordered to take his regiment out to the demanded : — 

front as pickets or videttes and to stay " Colonel Ellmaker, who relieved you? 
thei'e till relieved. It soon became who relieved you, sir?" 
evident that to hold position was no " Rebels, sir," was the laconic re- 
longer to be thought of, and that to joinder of hero of the 119th. Sedgwick 
save capture the regiment must be turned and rode away in silence. 



THE PLYMOUTH PILGRIMS. 



HOW THEY WERE CAPTURED. 

APRIL 20, 1864. 

ROBERT P. BLACK, Co, E, 103 P, V. V. (Plymouth Pilgrim). 

't> :: <t' 

HE town of Plymouth lies on the right bank of the 
Roanoke river seven miles from the Albemarle Sound. 

^ At the time here mentioned, it was garrisoned by Wes- 
selTs brigade, consisting of the 85th and 
9Gth N. Y., 101st and 103d Penn., and 16th 
Conn. Regts. There were besides two 
companies of the 12th N. Y. Cavalry, 2d 
Mass. Heavy Artillery, the 23d N. Y. Bat- 
tery, 1st N. C. Union Vols., and some 
negro recruits. On the river were the 
gunboats Miami, Southfield, and White- 
head. The effective land force was about 1,800 men. 

On Sunday evening, April 17, 1864, our cavalry pickets came in 
on the run, with the news that the rebs had driven in our picket 
line. A strong support was at once sent out, but they met a 
line of battle, four deep, backed by two batteries of artillery. 
This was at dark, and for nearly three hours a storm of shot 
and shell flew over us. The earth fairly shook, and the scream- 
ing of shot and shell was deafening. The rebs finally withdrew, 
taking only two whole guns out of the two eight-gun batteries 
that came into line three hours before. Their loss was terrible; 
ours, only trifling. 

The next morning, about an hour before daylight, they again 
charged our lines, and took the 85th N. Y. prisoners and turned 
their swivel gun on us. They took the 96th N. Y. about the 




182 CAMP AND FIELD. 

same time, but the guns at the uitter place did not do so much 
harm, owing to their pecuhar position. There was steady 
picket firing all day, and another heavy charge after dark^ 
which was met and repulsed with slight loss. The next morn- 
ing (Tuesday) the rebel ram Albemarle came down the river 
and was on us before we knew it, sinking the gunboat South- 
field, and driving the others down the river. The channel of 
the river had been obstructed with torpedoes, but owing to the 
high water the ram passed safely over them. Captain Flusser, 
of the Miami, lost his life by a rebound of a piece of one of his 
own shells. Had he lived, it is more than probable we would 
not have been taken prisoners. They were now in possession 
of our front, right, and rear. That forenoon (Tuesday) we 
formed and charged the rebs time and again, but each time we 
were driven back, and the 85th Penn. was captured by piece- 
meal. At each charge we lost ground, and a few more prison- 
ers fell into the enemy's hands. Night came on with our 
position entirely surrounded, and during the night the 101st 
Penn. lost, as the 85th had during the day, a few of its men at 
a time. 

At daylight the 2d Mass. Heavy Artillery was also " gathered 
in," and the sun arose over about as helpless and forlorn a 
garrison as can well be imagined. Our nearest forces were sixty 
miles distant, and the country between held by the enemy. Our 
commanding general, Brig. -Gen. H. W. Wessells, hoped against 
hope, and refused to surrender, as there was a bare possibility 
of re-enforcements coming up the river to our relief. The 
enemy had by this time got into houses in the town and com- 
pelled us to fight them from the front of our works. The swivel 
gun on the 85th N. Y,"s works annoyed us fearfully, doing us 
more harm than all the others. It killed Sergeant Logan, took 
Corporal Burtner's foot off, grazed my cap and ruptured my left 
fore-arm with a single shell. The IGth Conn, were taken, 
a few at a time, early in the morning; the few that were left 
of us fought from the wrong side of our works until about 11 
A. M., when General Wessells, seeing that further resistance was 
useless — permitted the flag on Fort Williams to be lowered. 
We all realized that we were in a sad fix. Our captors. Gener- 
als Ransom and Hoke, allowed us to take our clothing and 
private property, but a little sneak of a reb, spying my watch 
chain, and, being at some distance from his superiors, declared 



CAMP AND FIELD. 183 

that if I did not give it up iie would shoot me. That reb got 
the best watch in the regiment. It was an English open face, 
cap lever, full jeweled, gold hands, and No. G60. As soon as 
we surrendered we were placed under a strong guard and 
ordered to "fall in" by company and regiment, and were 
marched to the woods, on the road leading up the river, and in 
sight of our late camp. Here all the prisoners were assembled 
and searched by the 35th N. C. for deserters from their regi- 
ment. One of these deserters stood at my elbow and was passed 
and repassed by his cousin, yet not recognized. A roll was 
taken of all our names, with rank, company, and regiment. 
Of the negroes who were captured, a part had enlisted, but I 
think had not been mustered into the United States service, 
but were intended as recruits for some colored regiments. 
These were taken out the next morning to the edge of the 
woods and shot down like so many cattle. There must have 
been from sixty to eighty of them. It looked rough to see 
those poor colored men shot down in cold blood. Surely their 
blood cries from the ground! Yet, if I mistake not, this same 
General Ransom represents his state in the United States Sen- 
ate! The next morning we were placed under the care of the 
Both N. C. to be sent "up country" as prisoners of war. We 
were surrendered on April 20, 1864, and from that time until 
May 3, we were in transit to Andersonville, Ga. Old prisoners 
will readily recall the arrival of the "Plymouth Pilgrims," as we 
were called. A great many incidents happened on the way that 
amused us. I recall passing on foot near Tarboro, N. C, a big, 
frowzy-headed women, with a dozen or so equally frowzy chil- 
dren about her. She asked one of our guards where our 
"horns" were. She had always believed the Yankees had 
horns, and was surprised to see we had none. 

When we crossed the Cape Fear river, at Wilmington, N. C, 
we were ferried over on an old tub of a ferry-boat that could 
carry only about 250 at a time. While the last squad was 
crossing one of the guards took three of us back of an old cot- 
ton shed, and one of Co. K (103d Penn. Vols.) — Mort Jones, I 
think — stopped close to me while the other and the guard 
passed on a few steps. Jones was smoking a pipe, and, reach- 
ing through the shed, he got a handful of cotton and set it on 
fire with his pipe. He then rolled it up and shoved it through 
the crack in the shed. Soon after we left Wilmington we saw 



184 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



a large light behind us. That evening, at Charleston, we saw 
an account of a big fire at Wilmington that morning, with a 
loss of more than a million dollars' worth of cotton belonging 
to the Confederate government. We quietly smiled. This was 
May 1, 1864. 




Gknbraiv Looan. 

By CHAF>LAIN K". DENISON, Providence, R. I.— s 



|HEN from our hills the slogan 
rang, 
Quick to the call brave Logan sprang, 

For law and Jiberty ; 
His statesman's robe he laid aside 
To breast rebellion's bloody tide, 
To save our land, or die. 



The best was native in his blood 
To battle for our brotherhood ; 

Intense his love for right ; 
All bonds of party and of clan 
Gave way before the mightier man ; 

He knew but Freedom's fight. 

Nor braver soldier bore a gun, 
Amid the carnage of Bull Run ; 

E'en so upon Belmont, 
Fort Henry, Donelson, and fields 
A score, mid blood-wet swords and 
shields, 

He dauntless held the front. 

In him oppression found a foe, 

To honest deal firm word and blow, 

Until it humbly kneeled ; 
Then warmly was outstretched his hand, 
Broad over all our ransomed land, 

That woundings might be healed. 



Among the brave Grand Army host, 
He held the fii"st commanding post— 

An honor well deserved ; 
Devoted to the common good, 
In every public place he stood 

With loyalty unswerved. 

To all the leaders that we scan — 
Grant, Lincoln, Sherman, Sheridan — 

His soul was closely wove ; 
Unselfish, fearless, ever true. 
Elect among the deathless few, 

Shrined in our country's love. 

In field and forum, still the same, 
Unmoved alike by praise or blame, 

His nobleness confessed ; 
His record full, secure in fame, 
Our nation will revere his name, 

Aloft among her best. 



BATTLE AND ASSAULT 

AT PLAINS STORE AND PORT HUDSON. 



§8w ili Beeig U@ be SfeFMsl^ ^Y ^i Bullet 




THE 49th MASSACHUSETTS AND ITS BRAVE DEEDS IN LOUISIANA. 

May 27, 1863. 
By COL. SAMUEL B. SUMNER, 49th Massachusetts Volunteers. 



J^HURSDAY, May 2G, volunteers were called for for a 
storming party on the rebel works at Port Hud- 
son. Major Plunkett, Lieutenants Sherman and 
Siggins and about fifty others from the 49tli at 
once responded. Other regiments furnished vol- 
unteers in proportion, so that the required quota 
was speedily forthcoming. This day was mainly devoted to 
organizing the storming party, half of whom were to carry 
muskets and half facines — bundles of saplings five or six feet 
long — to be thrown into the ditch in front of the works to make 
a passage for troops and artillery. Lieutenant Colonel O'Brien, 
of the 48th Mass., was selected to command this forlorn hope. 
The night of May 26 was employed in lively preparation and 
hasty thoughts, and writing hasty messages home. May 27, 
we were early in the line, and an aide-de-camp, riding along, 
exclaimed, "You will make history to-day !" We soon filed into 
some woods, out of sight of the enemy, over and through which 
shot and shell were rushing in a style decidedly promiscuous. 
Colonel Bartlett, of the 49th Mass., sat pale and collected 
astride his steed, as with his artificial limb, he must needs go 
into the coming fray mounted or not at all. 

At last the supreme moment came, and we marched through 
the woods till we reached the open, where the familiar order 



186 CAMP AND FIELD. 

was given, " On the right, by file, into linel" When the rebs 
saw that order executed, they knew well that the next move 
would be forward. We found ourselves confronted with an 
abatis between us and their fortifications. Charging at double- 
quick was out of the question, but it was remarkable how well 
we managed for some distance to preserve our line, which, 
however, was broken up soon enough by our antagonists. 
They opened a most determined fire of shot, shell, and shrapnel, 
with every projectile then known in the art of war. A rattling 
thunder-storm and hurricane, and an accompanying conflagra- 
tion, I consider the nearest resemblance to it which the unini- 
tiated can imagine. Who shall understand who has not heard 
it, the unearthly moan and shriek of the shell, and the zip-zip 
of musketry, as if a myriad of wood-choppers were swinging 
their axes in that prostrate forest! It became wofully apparent 
that we should never reach the parapet, or the moat for which 
our fascines were intended. Colonel Chapin, commanding our 
brigade, dashed passed us, waving his sword. A few minutes 
later he was shot through the head. Lieutenant Deming of the 
49th was at about the same instant killed by a bullet crashing 
through his brain. All at once a glance at my left showed Col- 
onel Bartlett reeling in his saddle. My place was then in the 
rear of the colors. 

A moment later and it seemed to me that I was stricken by 
something of the size of a brick-bat, in the left shoulder. The 
sensation was not so acute as stunning. I put my hand between 
my fatigue coat and vest, and drew it away to find it dabbled in 
blood. I pushed for the nearest refuge of a fallen tree, where 
others almost immediately sought the same protection. The 2d 
Louisiana (a Federal regiment recruited by northern officers) 
marched over us as we lay there, but did not succeed in ad- 
vancing far beyond our outpost. After a while the firing in 
our immediate front slackened somewhat, and we could see 
that the rebels were turning their attention to General Sher- 
man's division on our left. 

After great work and effort we at last reached the woods 
from which we had sallied, and measurably out of range of 
sharpshooters. There I remember being hastily examined 
by a surgeon, and placed upon a stretcher, and carried to the 
surgeon's quarters of the 49th. Almost the first person I recog- 
nized there was Colonel Bartlett, who lay at the foot of a tree 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



187 



Avitli his arm in a sliiig and his head bound up with strips like 
so many lines of latitude and longitude. 

Next morning, May 38, several of us were assisted to our feet 
and braced up to gaze upon the familiar forms of our dead 
which had been brought in during the night. They were the 
men who, in full life, had waded with us the afternoon before 
into that sea of blood. I cannot call the roll. Our loss had 
been sixteen killed outright, and sixty-four wounded, many 
fatally. The assault had failed and nothing now remained but 
the slow process of a siege, to which at last, the garrison suc- 
cumbed. 



* 



-•^■•B^- 



r-iQJ 



i<iu 



JUST BEFORE THE BATTLE, MOTHER. 



fUST before the battle, mother, ■ 
I am thmking most of you, 
When upon the field we're watching, 
With the enemy in view; 
Comrades brave around nie lying, 

Filled with thoughts of home and 
God, 
For well they know that on the morrow 
Some will sleep beneath the sod. 

Chorus. — Farewell, mother, you may 
never 

Press me to your heart again. 
But, O, you'll not forget me, mother, 

If I'm numbered with the slain. 

O, I long to see you, mother, 
And the loving ones at home, 

But I'll never leave our banner 
TiU in honor I can come; 



Tell the ti-aitors all around you 
That their cruel words, we know, 

In every battle kill our soldiers 
By the help they give the foe. 

Chorus. — Farewell, mother, you may 
never, you may never 
Press me to your heart again ; 
O, you'll not forget me, mother, you 
will not forget me. 
If I'm numbered with the slain. 

Hark! I hear the bugle sounding, 

'Tis the signal for the fight ! 
Now may God protect us, mother, 

As He ever does the right ! 
Hear the battle-cry of Freedom, 

How it swells upon the air! 
O, yes, we'll rally 'round the standard, 

Or we'll perish nobly thei"e! 
Chorus. — Farewell, &c. 



•*-H 



^-^ll^^ 



yr^ 



JUNE 8, 1863. 

The Kamous cavalry Enqaqemenx. 

BLADE TO BLADE, STEEL TOUCHES STEEL. 
WM. ir. MOYEE, Sergeant Comimtuj D, 1st P. V. C, Logansville, Penn. 



VCvV\\X\\X.\\\.\\V\\"\.\\X\\X\'-: 



iaiaa«iiiti»al \'^'^'^■^^■^'^'^'V^XS\X^^.X^^.V\^»^4 





UNE 7, 1863, was spent in the bustle of preparation, 
LlFj) haversacks were stored, cartridge-boxes filled, horses 
■ shod, the sick sent back, and preparations for active 
campaigning gone through with. Then commenced 
irksome and wearying de- 
lays. 

Evening came and night 
passed, and reveille 
awoke us to another day's 
expectancy; but at noon, 
the bugle at division head- 
quarters sounded the ''general." Tents were struck, saddles 
packed, and the regiments massed in close column. After a delay 
of an hour or two more for our trains to get on the road we heard 
the "advance" sounded. Slowly pursuing our way through 
heat and clouds of dust, raised by the march of a division of 
cavalry over parched and arid fields, we as length reached the 
vicinity of the Rappahannock river, and at 9 p. m. bivouacked 
about a mile from Kelley"s Ford. The unusual precaution 
taken to prevent unnecessary noise betokened that we were in 
the neighborhood of the enemy and might expect an encounter. 
"We were roused from our slumber at three o^clock the next 
morning, and before we had finished breakfast, we heard the 
thunder of Buford's cannon at Beverly Ford. He had already 
commenced crossing his division. The alarm brought us to the 
saddle, and soon we were drawn up on the river bank around 
Kelley's Ford awaiting our turn to cross. 



CAMP AND FIF.LD. 189 

In half an hour we had passed the river and were pressing 
forward into the interior, Dufiie's 3d Brigade having the ad- 
vance. After proceeding some miles we turned off in the direc- 
tion of Stevensburg, while Wyndham's command moved rap- 
idly towards Brandy Station, with orders to find the enemy and 
at once engage him. These were just the orders for gallant 
men and dashing brigade commanders. Moving at a brisk trot, 
— the 1st N. J. Cavalry in front, the 1st Penn. next, and Mar- 
tin's battery and the 1st Md. Cavalry bringing up the rear, — in 
less than an hour we had reached the vicinity of the station 
and were engaged with the enemy's skirmishers. 

Hurrying our columns from the wood through which the road 
had led the last two miles, Colonel Wyndham formed his 
brigade in columns of regiment in the open field east of the 
station, and, leading the 1st N. J. in person, ordered the line to 
charge. Our sudden appearance on the flank and rear of the 
enemy, took him by surprise, and for some minutes the hills 
and plains beyond the railroad swarmed with galloping squad- 
rons of Johnny Rebs hurrying to a new position to meet our 
attack. The 1st Md., with Companies A and B of the 1st Penn. 
Cavalry moved down on the station. Colonel Wyndham led 
the 1st N. J. against a battery on the heights beyond the rail- 
road, and the balance of the 1st Penn. directed its operations 
against the Barbour house — a large mansion on a high knoll 
just beyond the railroad and about half a mile north of the 
station. 

The field presented a scene of grand and thrilling interest. 
A whole brigade of cavalry, in column of regiments, was mov- 
ing steadily forward to the attack on our side, while the 
enemy's cavalry in new formation stood in glittering lines 
awaiting the assault, and his artillery, stationed on every hill, 
with rapid flash and continuous roar belched forth a concen- 
trated flre on our advancing columns. Still, with undaunted 
firmness, the brigade moved forward — first at a walk, then 
quickening their pace to a trot: and then, as the space between 
the battle fronts rapidly shortened, the gallop was taken, and 
when scarce fifty paces intervened, the order to charge rang 
along our front. In an instant a thousand glittering sabers 
flashed in the sunlight, and from a thousand brave and confi- 
dent spirits arose a shout of defiance which, caught up by rank 
after rank, formed one vast, strong, f ull-volumed battle-cry, and 



190 . CAMP AND FIELD. 

every trooper rising in his stirrups leaned forward to meet the 
shock, and dashed headlong upon the foe. First came the 
dead, heavy crash of the meeting columns, and next the clash 
of saber, the rattle of pistol and carbine, mingled with frenzied 
imprecations; wild shrieks that followed the death blow; the 
demand to surrender and the appeal for mercy — forming the 
horrid din of battle. For a few brief moments the enemy stood 
and bravely fought, and hand to hand, face to face, raged- the 
contest; but, quailing at length before the resistless force of our 
attack and shrinking from the savage gleam and murderous 
stroke of our swift descending sabers, they at length broke and 
fled in confusion. We followed, and soon the whole plain for 
a mile in extent w^as covered with flying columns engaged in a 
general melee. This continued until the enemy came up with 
re-enforcements, when we withdrew and reformed. 

When the 1st Penn, Cavalry emerged from the woods at the 
opening of the action, it was formed about half a mile from the 
railroad and immediataly on the left and supporting our bat- 
tery. Scarcely half the regiment had gotten into position when 
the enemy opened at point-blank range from the Barbour 
house, hurling shot and shell into our ranks with great rapidity. 
We moved forward to storm the position, and capture the bat- 
tery. As we marched toward the smoking cannon, they saluted 
us with spherical case, then hurled grape and canister into 
our faces, but our line moved on, and would have taken the 
guns had it not been for an intervening ditch, which enabled 
the battery to move off before the regiment could cross. Once 
beyond the ditch, we formed ourselves at the foot or base of 
the heights under a heavy fire from the buildings surrounding 
the mansion, and half of the regiment, led by Colonel Taylor, 
of 1st Penn. Cavalry, moved on the house from the front, while 
the other half, with Lieutenant-Colonel Gardner at its head, 
swung around on its left and rear. Both wings dashing im- 
petuously forward, cleared the enemy from the intervening 
space, and held possession of the ground. Here occurred an 
incident which illustrates how utterly Southern chivalry de- 
tested the rough arguments of cold steel when wielded by 
Northern mechanics. Just as we were raising the hill on our 
charge, a bold and audacious rebel rode forward from their 
ranks and called out: ''Put up your sabers! put up your sabers! 
Draw your pistols, and fight like gentlemen;" but the median- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



191 



ics, farmers, and laborers of Pennsylvania placed too great 
confidence in their tried blades and the iron nerves of their 
right arms to accept his advice, and soon these kid-gloved 
gentry shrank from the w^eight of their sturdy strokes. 

Here we met the flower of Stuart's cavalry, composed of his 
own body-guard and White's celebrated battalion, and, though 
unaware at the time, we had stormed and carried his headquar- 
ters. This we learned from his adjutant-general, who was taken 
prisoner. 



KeIvIv kor His Country. 

BY T. W. PARSONS. 
DIRGE, FOR ONE WHO FELL IN BATTLE. 



i)OOM for a soldier ! Lay him in 

the clover ; 
'He loved the fields, and they shall 
be liis cover ; 
Make his mound with hers who called 
him once her lover ; 
AVhere the rain may rain upon it, 
Where the sun may shine upon it, 
Where the lamb hath lain upon it, 
And the bee will dine upon it. 

Bear him to no dismal tomb luider city 

churches ; 
Take him to the fragrant fields, by the 

silver birches ; 
Where the whij^poorwill shall mourn, 
where the oriole perches ; 
Make his mound with sunshine on it. 
Where the bee will dine upon it, 
AVhere the lamb hath lain upon it. 
And the rain will rain upon it. 

Busy as the busy bee, his rest should 

be the clover ; 
Gentle as the lamb was he, and the 

fern should be his cover ; 
Fern and rosemary shall grow my 

soldier's pillow over — 



Where the rain may rain upon it, 
Where the sun may shine upon it, 
Where the lamb hath lain upon it. 
And the bee will dine upon it. . 

Sunshine in his heart, the rain would 

come full often 
Out of those tender eyes which ever- 
more did soften ; 
He never could look cold till we saw 
him in his coffin. 
Make his mound with sunshine on it 
Where the wind may sigh upon it. 
Where the moon may stream upon it 
And memory shall dream upon it. 

" Captain or colonel " — whatever invo- 
cation 
Suit our hymn the best, no matter for 

thy station — 
On thy grave the rain shall fall from 
the eyes of a mighty nation! 
Long as the sun doth shine upon it 
Shall glow the goodly pine upon it, 
Long as the stars do gleam upon it 
Shall memory come to dream upon 
it. 



fl Cl7ieJ^§\m§va^a Expepienee. 



A STRUGGLE FOR THE MASTERY IN THE WOODS OF 
NORTHERN GEORGIA. 



HOW IT FEELS TO HAVE ONE'vS BLOOD LET OUT BY A 

BULLET. 



BY W. F. HINMAN, 65th OHIO. 




)0 man who went through the battle of Chickamauga 
will ever forget it. As I write, the picture of that 
awful struggle in the Georgia woods, on those hot 
September days, rise before me. It is as vivid as 
though it all had occurred but yesterday. During the four 
years of war there was no more stubbornly contested bat- 
tle than Chickamauga. On the part of the Army, of the 
Cumberland it was a fight against odds. Bragg had been 
reinforced by Longstreet's corps of Lee's Virginia army and 
expected to crush Rosecrans by one tremendous effort. He struck 
the blow and struck hard. That it very nearly resulted in seri- 
ous disaster to the Union cause cannot be denied. Part of the 
army was driven in rout, but the valor and steadiness of the sol- 
diers arrested the tide of defeat. Technically speaking, the Con- 
federates ma}^, perhaps, fairh' claim a victory, although to them 
it was barren of results, aside from the guns and prisoners taken. 
Rosecrans' army yielded the field, but it did not let go its grasp 
upon Chattanooga, which was the objective point of the cam- 
paign fi-om Murfreesboro. Two months later it girded up its 
loins and by one of the grandest assaults recorded In history 
swept Bragg's army like chaff from its seemingl}^ impregnable 
position on the heights of Lookout Mountain and Mission Ridge. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 193 

We were part of Wood's Division of Crittenden's Twenty-first 
corps. For a week before the battle we had bivouacked along the 
bank of Chickamauga creek — it can hardly be called a river — at 
Lee & Gordon's mill. There was constant skirmishing with the 
enemy, and a battle was daily expected. The movements of the 
Confederates on September 18, left no doubt of their intention to 
attack. Bragg knew that Rosecrans' army was then widely 
scattered, and his purpose was to attack the corps in detail and 
overwhelm each in turn before it could receive succor. It was 
onlvbv extraordinarv efforts that Rosecrans succeeded in o-etting: 
his forces together before Bragg delivered battle. A delay of one 
more day would have been fatal. 

During tlie afternoon and evening of the eighteenth there was 
heavy fighting at some points, and ever^ man felt intuitively that 
the next day w^ould be a bloody one. There was little sleep in the 
army that night. All through the slowly dragging hours divi- 
sions and brigades were moving here and there, to take the posi- 
tions assigned them. We remained all night at the mill. Memory 
recalls a group of sixteen officers of the Sixty-first Ohio, as they 
sat under a tree next morning and ate breakfast. There were 
anxious hearts and sober faces. We wondered who of us would 
be stricken down in the battle, for we knew that some must fall. 
Truly the missiles of war did make sad havoc with that little 
company of officers. Thirty-six hours after, three of them had 
been killed and seven were wounded. Eighteen years later I stood 
again upon that very spot — and how the events of the old days 
came up before me ! I presume it is with others as with me. The 
pictures of the war were indelibly photographed upon my mind. 
The lapse of years does not in any degree dim their vividness. 
Events in my life that occurred before and since the war I have 
forgotten, but those of four 3'ears in camp and field will be remem- 
bered to the latest hour of life. 

Bragg expected to deliver battle on the eighteenth. It was for- 
tunate for the Union army that he was unable to do so. The 
time thus gained was of priceless value, enabling Rosecrans to 
effect a concentration of his army. This was only accomplished 
by an all night march of several divisions. It is not my purpose 
to even attempt to give a history of the battle, but only a narra- 
tive of personal experience — much like that of thousands of oth- 
ers. The Si.xty-first Ohio was in the thickest of the fight, and 
suffered its full share of loss in killed and wounded. At that time 
I was a first lieutenant, commanding Company I. 

The battle opened on the morning of the nineteenth, in Thomas' 



194 CAMP AND FIELD 

front. We lay at Lee & Gordon's mill until perhaps eleven o'clock, 
ready to move upon the instant. There was heavy and continu- 
ous firing some distance away, and we knew ere long we would 
be called. A staff officer dashed up and delivered an order. Col- 
onel Harker, commanding the brigade, sprang into the saddle, 
and the command "Fall in!" was instantly given. Awav to the 
left we went at double-quick. Two miles it seemed, but perhaps 
it was not so far, w^e went along the road, through clouds of 
dust, which settled on perspiring faces until one could scarce! v rec- 
ognize his nearest comrade. " Bv file right!" and leaving the 
road we entered the woods. We had gone but a short distance 
w^hen we began to hear the angry hiss of bullets. Thev came 
from a direction which indicated that we were in the uncomfort- 
able position of being enfiladed. The firing was squarelv from 
our left flank. "Change front forward on Tenth company !" w^as 
the order given by Lieutenant Colonel Whitbeck, who was in 
command of the regiment. The movement was as perfectly exe- 
cuted as if on the drill ground, under a galling fire, before which 
men w^ere falling every instant. Then came the commands, "Lie 
dow^n !" "Fire at will !" and the work was hot and furious. 

I cannot tell how much time elapsed — it seemed to me hardly 
five minutes — when a bullet plowed a furrow across my body, in 
front, and "zipped" through my right arm at the elbow. The 
ball had lost none of its force, for we w^ere at close quarters, and 
went "like a streak of lightning." The first sensation I experienced 
was like that of a smart blow with a stick. My sword tumbled to 
the ground and my arm fell powerless st my side. Blood flowed 
freelv and I felt the necessity of getting back to the rear and bav- 
in sf mv wound dressed. For that dav, at least, I would be "no 
good." One of the boys tore a strip from the tail — if you please — 
of his shirt, twisted it into a string and tied it tightly around 
my arm, to check the bleeding. It had the desired eflect, and di- 
recting the orderly sergeant to take charge of the company, I 
started back. My legs were all right, and I made, I think, pretty 
good time until I was out of range. As long as I could be of no 
further service until I had repaired damages, I felt that I didn't 
want to get hit again if I could avoid it. 

The woods were full of wounded men, streaming to the rear. 
Some fell, weak and exhausted, and were borne away upon 
stretchers. It was a scene to move the hardest heart. I offered 
assistance to a soldier belonging to another regiment of our bri- 
gade, who had been shot through the leg. Leaning upon my left 
shoulder, and using his musket as a crutch, he hobbled along, and 



CAMP AND FIELD. 195 

together we made our way to the field hospital of our division, 
more than a mile in rear of the line of battle. There the picture 
was harrowing in the extreme. Several great hospital tents were 
filled with men maimed and mangled by bullet or shell. Outside 
upon the ground were hundreds more h'ing on blankets. Sur- 
geons and nurses were busy everywhere examining the w^ounds, 
and doing w^hatever each case required. In one of the tents was 
an amputating table, where, with sleeves rolled up and saw and 
knife in hand, the surgeons were engaged in their horrid work. 
Outside lay a score of legs and arms that had been taken off. The 
scene brought to my eyes tears that I could not repress. 

I did not know how badly I had been hurt. I remember that 
all the way backfrom the front I was wondering whether I would 
lose my arm. At length I found good old Doctor Todd, who had 
formerly been our regimental surgeon. 

"Hello! Lieutenant!" was his cheery greeting, "they've winged 
3^ou too, have they?" 

As soon as he had finished one or two more serious cases which 
he had on hand, he took hold of me. He cut away the torn and 
bloody sleeve and with a touch as gentle as a woman's examined 
the wound. 

"We'll save that arm all right,'' he said, and his words gave 
me immeasurable relief. He pushed a probe through to expel any 
fragments of the cloth that might have lodged in the wound, and 
this gave me vastly more ]:)ain than did the bullet. Then he 
staunched the blood, wrapped the arm with bandages, put it in a 
sling, and then gave his attention to another. 

All the afternoon and far into the night the sufferers continued 
to come in from the field of conflict. There was work for every- 
body who was able to do anything. Many whose wounds were 
com])aratively slight gave food and water to the helpless ones, 
and in every possible way ministered to their coiniort. No human 
feeling is stronger than the sympathy of a soldier for a brave 
comrade who has been stricken down in battle. To not a few of 
those poor fellows it was their last night on earth. Not less than 
two-score at that division hospital never sruv the sunlight again. 
I remember an Illinois Major, who lay pale and weak upon a cot 
next to the one which I occupied. A cannon ball had crushed his 
legs and both had been amputated. Toward morning I slept an 
hour or two. When I awoke, he was dead. 

During the forenoon of the next day, when disaster befell the 
right wing of the Union army, a report reached our hospital that 
a body of rebel cavalry was swooping down upon it. What fol- 



196 CAMP AND FIELD, 

lowed was verj^ much like a stampede. All the ambulances at 
hand were hastily filled with such of the wounded as could be 
moA'ed and they were started for Chattanooga. Among those 
who in this way escaped the clutches of the enemy was Lieuten- 
ant Colonel Whitbeck, of the Sixty-fifth, who had been grievously 
wounded the day before, at about the time I was hit. All of the 
wounded who were able to walk, joined in the general rush to- 
ward Chattanooga I was one of these, for, like others, I had a 
mortal dread of being a prisoner. The surgeons and man^^ of 
the non-combatants, who were serving as nurses, remained at 
their posts of duty and were captured, when, a few minutes after 
our hasty departure, the rebel troops surrounded the hospital. 
Part of the wounded were exchanged a few days later. The rest 
were removed to Southern prisons, where inore than half of them 
died. 

We scampered along as best we could to get out of the wa^^ of 
the "Johnnies." The road was filled with a confused mass of wa- 
gons, ambulances, wounded men and demoralized stragglers from 
the debris of the routed divisions of the right wing. We feared 
that the whole army was driven and the day was lost. We could 
still hear heavy firing, however, indicating that sombody was 
still able to fight. That night, in Chattanooga, w^e learned that 
grand old "Pap" Thomas, with his own and Crittenden's corps 
and fragments of McCook's, had stood firm as a rock, repelling 
all the fierce assaults of the enemy upon him. 

A few days at Chattanooga and then a long train of ambu- 
lances conveved several hundred of the wounded to Bridgeport, 
whence we went in cattle cars to Nashville. There I was fur- 
loughed and spent two months at home, nursing ni}^ wounded 
arm and telling the story of the battle to the people of the village 
in which I lived. The Berea company had fared badl}-. Four of 
its members had been killed, and four were captured. Of the lat- 
ter, not one lived to come back. 



LiBBY Prison's Tunnel 



flow SIXTY-ONE UNION SOLDIERS ESCAPED FROM THE FAMOUS DUNGEON. 



THBILLING NABBATIVE BY AN OFFICER. 



WdVm% Expepienees si ^hp>ee ^HfsFfeuFicite Fugitives. 




FRANK E. MORAN, Captain Company H, 73d New Tork Volunteers. 

^^v^cv^^vv^■v^^c\^.'CV^■v^x^^^\vv^^x\^"V^\■v^\•v^.x\\x\■ i \ \ I = = = =^^ = x,xxv^\\x\\x\\x\\vn.\x\'JVv\xv\x\xx\\vvx\nx\\x\\\ 

|HE bold plan of escaping from Libby by digging a tun- 
nel was conceived by Col. Thomas E. Rose, of the 77th 
Penn. Regt., in November, '63, and he was the director 
and supervisor of this perilous work. He was a 
brainy, cool, and intrepid man, coined for just such a daring 
enterprise. 

At the time of the escape, there were not less than 1,000 
Union officers confined in Libby, and "Rose" selected from 
among them, fourteen men, sworn to secrecy, as the working 
party. Absolute secrecy was considered essential to success, 
as the Confederates frequently sent spies disguised as Union 
prisoners among us to get information of any contemplated es- 
cape. The work of the tunnelers occupied the greater part of 
four months, day and night; the implements used being a com- 
mon table knife, a broken trowel, and a small wooden spittoon, 
with a blanket rope attached. The dirt was hidden under straw 
in the east cellar, from which the hole, about two feet in diame- 
ter, began. The tunnel passing under the sentinel's feet 
crossed a vacant lot and terminated at the surface in a stable 
yard, about seventy feet outside the prison wall. 

The men were baffled in their first beginning by contact with 
a large rock and with foundation timbers. Again, it was at- 
tempted to effect an opening into the main sewer on the canal 



198 CAMP AND FIELD. 

side of the prison ; but after a prodigious labor of many days 
and nights, water began to ooze in, finally coming with a rush 
that threatened to drown the fourtunnelers and reveal the plot. 
After great efforts in plugging it, this tunnel was reluctantly 
given up — a severe misfortune, for this tunnel (so much more 
roomy than the one through which the escape was finalh'" 
made) would have emptied the prison in three hours. 

The last and successful tunnel was dug several feet above 
the bed of the cellar in the east wall. To effect an opening- 
through the thick foundation wall was a work worthy of the 
proverbial patience of beavers, considering the feeble imple- 
ments at hand. The tunnelers gained access to the cellar at 
night, b}^ removing several bricks from the fireplace in the 
kitchen, and penetrating under the floor joists. These bricks 
were replaced when the working detail had descended, and all 
trace of the opening Avas removed b}^ covering the replaced 
bricks by soot. At least two men were continually at the work, 
remaining until relieved the following night. The prisoners up- 
stairs were carefully counted twice each day by the Confeder- 
ates, and, to make the count appear correct, two of the working 
party, by an ingenious fraud, managed to be counted twice 
while the absentees Avere boring for life and liberty. 

I had been a prisoner in Libb}" for over six months and had 
mingled freely among my fellow captives in each of the rooms, 
yet so Avell had "Rose'' and his party kept their secret, that it 
was not until I had lain down on the night of February 8. 1864, 
that I learned of the existence of the tunnel. The startling in- 
formation ^vas given me by mj* friend. Col, Aaron K, Dunkel, 
who slept beside me in the '"Gettysburg room," It Avas after 
''taps'"; the talloAA* dips had long since been extinguished and 
the floor of each of the larger rooms (100 feet by 45) Avere cov- 
ered by prostrate forms of hundreds of prisoners, I could see 
no evidence of an intended escape and half suspected my 
friend Dunkel of one of his practical jokes, for Avhich he had a 
deserA'-ed reputation in Libby, 

However, I sought Capt, W, H. H. Wilcox of the 10th N, Y,, 
whom I found equipped for a march. He told me the tunnel 
Avas reached through the kitchen and that some of the prison- 
ers had already gone out. He gladly assented to my proposal 
to attempt the escape together, and I made my toilet, Aviiich, 
OAving to a scanty Avardrobe, took less than a minute. Picking 



CAMP AND FIELD. 199 

our way among sleeping comrades stretched in hundreds upon 
the floor of the " Chickamauga room," we descended the crazy- 
stairway into the kitchen, which was dark and dismal as the 
grave. Reaching the hottom, we heard no sound save the 
familiar drip, drip, of the damaged water faucet. Formerly 
this room had been patrolled by sentinels, but as the floor was a 
perpetual puddle of dirty water and wholly untenable for sleep- 
ing purposes, the prisoners had entirely abandoned it for drier 
quarters and the guard had been withdrawn. 

Wilcox and I groped along the east wall, and, when ten feet 
from the front door, we ran suddenly against a silent and 
densely packed crowd of men around the fireplace, "Colonel 
Rose " was the first man to go out, closely followed by the 
working party, who having completed their work, placed the 
tunnel at the service of all. Then followed Colonel Streight, 
Captain Reed, and other officers of his brigade. In my anxiety, 
I was magnifying minutes into hours; there seemed no per- 
ceptible reduction of the crowd in front, while the crowd behind 
had increased by hundreds and were pressing us to suffoca- 
tion. The measured tread of the guard echoed on the sidewalk, 
within ten feet of where we were. Inquiries, as to the reason 
of the delay, were whispered from man to man; and fainting 
and weak men were begging for room and air. 

At last all movement ceased. "A fat man was stuck in the 
tunnel and could not get either way." This news sent a chill 
of unutterable disgust through the crowd; muttered curses 
were rained thick and fast upon the unlucky victim's stomach. 
Meanwhile, the sensations of the luckless fat man in his appall- 
ing situation may be faintly conjectured, but the reader must 
paint the picture. The bare thought of my fat comrade's har- 
rowing plight that night gives me a painful oppression of the 
heart. At last, the corpulent comrade, with forty feet yet to go, 
made a supreme struggle for life and reached the open air in 
the stable yard; and I rejoice to add that he was one of the 
happy sixty-one who reached the Union lines. The escape of our 
fat comrade was a deplorable loss to the Confederates. They 
had been pointing him out to distinguished visitors as a stu- 
pendous refutation of the damaging charges, that Union pris- 
oners were being reduced to skeletons. 

The way being reported clear, I was at last gratified to see 
that there were but three men ahead of me; pressing at my back, 



200 CAMP AND FIELD, 

however, was a compact crowd of three hundred. Suddenly 
the muffled tread of feet was heard up stairs, and a voice 
shouted loud and shrill: "The guards, the guards!" Men 
bounded toward the unbanistered staircase like a herd of mad 
bisons. The stairs were ninety feet away, and, as the panic- 
stricken men struggled towards the ''Chickamauga room," they 
fell under foot by the dozen. At the first alarm I had been 
lifted from my feet and borne swiftly across the room. I was 
dashed against an upright pillar with great violence, and, 
falling in the water, a hundred men trampled me under their 
feet, bruising my shoulder and hand painfully. Capt. Willard 
Glazier was hurt in the same manner as myself. 

As soon as I recovered I arose to my feet. I realized that I 
was alone in the kitchen, and was grateful at not finding my- 
self surrounded by Confederate guards. All noise had ceased 
up stairs and I concluded that it was a false alarm. I crept 
cautiously to the front door and looked out. The lamps on the 
streets were shining brightly and a sentinel at that moment 
was looking toward the heavy door through which I was 
watching him. He was less than eight feet away and ap- 
peared at the moment to be looking straight into my eyes. 
I did not move, fearing to betray my presence by the slightest 
motion. 

The corporal of the guard approached and the sentinel, turn- 
ing to him, demanded why in h 1 he didn't get out the relief, 

and added, he reckoned the Yankees must have had a ration 
of apple-jack to-night, for they had been fighting and raising 
h 1 inside. 

I watched for the effect of this speech upon the corporal. He 
made no response whatever, but, lazily turning on his heel, 
slowly crossed the street and disappeared. My belief was con- 
firmed, that, notwithstanding the unearthly racket in the 
kitchen, the Confederates had no suspicion of our desperate 
game. I determined to lose no more precious time, for I had a 
long and dangerous road to travel before the morning count in 
Libby should reveal the number missing and put all Richmond 
on our track. 

I squeezed myself feet first through the narrow aperture in 
the fireplace, and through the chimney, into the east cellar, 
which was divided from the cellar containing the cells by a 
wall. These cells were at the front of the building and were 



CAMP AND FIELD. 201 

alternately used for the confinement of hostages, "troublesome 
prisoners," and Union spies under death sentence. They were 
floorless closets ten or twelve feet square. A small stream of 
light from a narrow grated window half sunken in the side- 
walk above stole into them a part of the day. They were 
guarded by special sentinels; were alive with enormous rats, 
and the air in them was sickening. From these dreadful cages 
many a brave fellow went forth to death. A wall divided this 
cell from the east cellar under the hospital room, and it was in 
the east wall of this cellar that the tunnel proper began. 

Finding the fragment of a blanket rope hanging from the 
top of the opening, I let my feet down, hoping to touch bot- 
tom, but found none, and I balanced myself for a fall, whither 
or to what depth I knew not, for it was a pit of rayless dark- 
ness. With a sort of faith in fortune I shut my eyes and teeth 
and let go. Thanks to thoughtful comrades I fell into a pile 
of straw, and, rolling over two or three times, found myself 
among hundreds of squealing rats. Before I could recover my 
equilibrium a score of the repulsive creatures ran over me. Com- 
plying with my instructions, I placed my back to the wall and 
waded knee deep toward the opposite wall, through the straw 
that covered the cellar. The place seemed alive with rats that 
squealed and thumped against my ankle at every step. 

At last I reached the wall and ran my hand along the cold 
damp surface, in search of the tunnel. I groped along until I 
reached the southeast corner, and, believing I must have passed 
the hole, I made my way back with increased anxiety and 
caution. I stopped a dozen times, to listen for some friendly 
token from comrades who had long preceded me, but no sound 
could be heard but the horrible chorus of rats. The thought of 
failure harassed me, as did the fear that I should be obliged to 
pass the night in the loathsome place. Great beads of perspira- 
tion came when I thought of being found by the guards in the 
morning, if indeed the rats did not long ere that battle for my 
remains. 

It paralyzed me to think that through my blundering the tun- 
nel would be discovered and that I should be loaded with the 
disgrace of having deprived hundreds of prisoners of their 
liberty. I thought I had surveyed an acre of wall and was on 
the border of despair, when, to my boundless joy, my hand fell 
upon a pair of heels. I knew they were live heels, for I had 



202 CAMP AND FIELD. 

no sooner touched them than they vanished like magic in the 
wall. 

" Who's there? " said a voice, as if from the grave. 

" Moran," I answered, "from the Gettysburg room. Who 
are you? " 

"Charley Morgan," the sepulchral voice responded, "from 
the Chickamauga room. Are the rebs coming?" 

"No, go ahead and make room for me," said I, and away 
went the heels, sending a shower of dirt into both my eyes. 

The hole had an average diameter of about two feet; at times 
descending and again rising. The earth was clammy cold and 
the air suffocating. My bruised shoulder got rough usage as I 
wedged myself forward. The hole grew narrower as I ad- 
vanced, and notwithstanding my slight form, I found myself 
more than once in the position of the fat man who had pre- 
ceded me. Morgan unhappily took a violent cramp in one of 
of his legs, and, to relieve his distress, I pulled off his shoe. 
This proved a somewhat troublesome charge, for, in order to 
save it for its owner, I had to push it ahead of me as I crawled 
onward. The length of the tunnel seemed interminable. I was 
gasping for breath and my shoulder was paining dreadfully. 

At last, fainting with suffocation, pain, and fatigue, a ray 
of light gladdened my eyes and I felt the welcome blessedness 
of fresh air, certainly the most delicious air I ever breathed in 
my life. Morgan gave me a friendly welcome, as I rose to the 
surface, and, having reached terra firma, I made a minute 
survey of my surroundings. 

I stood about seventy feet from the eastern wall of the prison 
and, looking through the dilapidated fence, saw the sentinels 
pacing their posts. By the light of the street lamps I could 
easily distinguish their features. An arched way, of sufficient 
width for the passage of wagons, led to the street on the south, 
next to and parallel with the canal. I noticed a third person 
in the yard, and Morgan, in a whisper, introduced Lieut. Will- 
iam Watson, of the 21st Wis. Regt. We decided to go down 
the street in an easterly direction, and meet at the second corner 
for consultation. We each removed our shoes that we might 
move noiselessly and also that we might run the swifter if 
challenged by the sentinels. 

Watson went first and was followed in about two minutes by 
Morgan, As they moved away, I watched the two nearest 



CAMP AND FIELD. 20'^ 

guards, who halted on their post.s and gazed at the retreating 
forms of my friends. I resolved, should they show a sign of 
firing, to shout to my comrades and dash down the street after 
them. The guards appeared to have no suspicions, and, without 
any audible comment, resumed the pacing of their posts. Feel- 
ing this to be my opportunity, I leisurely followed in the wake 
of my friends. It would be difficult to convey a clear idea of 
the peculiar sensation I felt, when, after an imprisonment of 
over six months, I first found myself in the open air and drank 
in the first fragrant breath of liberty; and yet I felt a pang of 
regret as I turned to look at the grim walls of Libby, where 1 
was leaving, perhaps forever, many of the most valued friends 
of my life. 

My feet stumbled over the uneven walk, as if I had just 
landed after a long sea voyage, and the cool February air had an 
intoxicating effect. I found my two friends at the appointed 
place. As I had served in McClellan's Peninsula campaign 
and was tolerably familiar with the topography of the vicinity, 
I was installed as guide and decided to attempt the passage of 
the breastworks on the north side of the city. We moved 
quickly, but with great caution, for we knew the streets to he 
thoroughly patrolled and that the provost guard compelled 
every one on the streets to exhibit the proper pass. 

In spite of care we found ourselves almost in the hands of tho 
patrol several times, and twice came upon sentinels posted in 
front of military hospitals. After repeated narrow escapes we 
turned a corner, and, before we had a chance to exchange a 
word, a dozen Confederates, without arms, passed us without 9 
challenge, or a visible suspicion that we were escaping Yankees- 
Grateful for our good fortune we moved rapidly forward 
Dogs rushed at us from every house and set up a hideous howl, 
as if the whole tribe had conspired to betray us. We were soon 
in the northern outskirts of Richmond and no longer had tlip 
aid of the gas lamps. 

The ground was frozen and hilly. Dim lights appeared as 
we approached the breastworks. At times we came so near the 
sentinels that we could hear them conversing. Finally we 
reached the creek, too wide to jump and too deep and cold to 
ford, except as a last extremity. Following it eastward we 
found its southern landing unguarded, and, hoping the opposite 
landing was the same, we began a cautious crossing. I was in 



204 CAMP AND FIELD. 

the advance and nearly over, when I heard a voice just ahead 
of me call out: — 

"Corporal of the guard! " 

We dropped upon our hands and knees and made a cautious 
retreat; expecting a shower of balls after us, but heard nothing 
but the confused hum of voices on the other side. 

At last we found the creek nearly spanned at a narrow bend 
by a fallen tree. We mounted the trunk and made a safe land- 
ing. We made our way over numberless rifle-pits, huge earth- 
works, tangled brush and fallen trees that would have proved 
a bloody path to an assaulting column. In front of the works, 
deep and impassable ditches ran, and a dozen times we came 
within an ace of walking into the hands of guards. Having 
passed the city limits and the line of works outside successfully, 
our spirits rose in spite of empty stomachs and shivering limbs. 
We carefully avoided the roads, believing that we should be 
less likely to encounter the guards. The first gray streaks of 
day were appearing in the East as we saw ahead a number of 
small fires, and as they seemed to be at uniform distance we 
concluded we had reached the outer line of pickets. 

We saw no advantage in going to the right or left, hence we 
made a hurried reconnoissance and voted to attempt a passage 
in our immediate front. We went forward to within one hun- 
dred yards of the nearest post and saw five armed Confederates 
round the fire while three more were grouped at the next one. 
Their faces were to the fire and their backs towards us. We 
dropped upon our hands and knees, and crept in single file, to- 
ward the center of the intervening space. In spots a low 
underbrush covered us, but most of the ground was nearly bare, 
and, as we crept along the frozen earth, the brittle brush 
snapped and cracked treacherously, while the blazing logs illu- 
minated our perilous way. At every sound of the snapping 
branches we looked anxiously on both sides, resolved, if chal- 
lenged, to take to our heels and run the gantlet. The Con- 
federates were laughing and talking, their faces turned to- 
wards the genial fire. 

Having passed the danger point, and well out of hearing, we 
rose to our feet, and giving three cheers (in pantomime), broke 
into a lively trot, with increasing hopes of success; for fortune 
thus far had singularly favored us. Sunrise found us several 
miles northeast of Mechanicsville. We had no means of know- 



CAMP AND FIKLD. 205 

ing how far we were from Union troops; and we were alike in 
doubt as to the number and whereabouts of any enemy in our 
front. Farm houses began to appear frequently, and knowing 
the danger of being once seen in a hostile community, we re- 
luctantly concluded it prudent to hide until night should return. 

Accordingly we entered a swamp which covered from six to 
eight acres, thickly grown with a low underbrush that afforded 
the best available concealment. Selecting a spot at the base of 
a large oak tree well carpeted with leaves, we stretched our 
exhausted limbs and soon shivered ourselves to sleep. I was 
transported by a sweet dream to my country's capital. I was 
at the White House, in a new suit of clothes, and had been spe- 
cially invited by Mr. Lincoln and his Cabinet to a gorgeous din- 
ner. The President was carving a huge turkey; Mr. Seward 
was uncorking the champagne, and General Grant was filling 
our pockets with fragrant bundles of his best cigars. 

I became suddenly conscious that some one had seized me by 
the hair with a savage grip. Morgan was butting my head 
violently against the big oak, exclaiming: '"Damn it! stop 
snoring or you will have us all captured." Before I could 
realize the cause of my comrades' alarm, I heard a rustling 
among the bushes and in another minute a small dog bounded 
into our hiding place, gave a quick, sharp bark and disappeared. 
This naturally gave us alarm, and within a minute we heard 
voices approaching from the south. We were preparing to run, 
when a number of armed Confederates appeared. We dropped 
upon our faces in the thick underbrush, clinging to the desperate 
hope that we might escape their notice. The party, dog and 
all, passed within ten feet of where we lay and in another 
minute had disappeared. 

Was it possible that twenty men could pass so close and 
none of them see us? It seemed incredible. We were in a 
perilous situation and there was no time for parleying. I felt 
that we had been seen and believed that our only chance was a 
run for life. My two friends thought the chances of escaping 
twenty bullets too slim, and expressed the hope that we had 
escaped the notice of the Confederates. Our desperate situa- 
tion demanded decision, so I volunteered to follow the path 
taken by the armed party and reconnoiter; it being understood 
that if I fell into the hands of the Confederates I should give 
warning by a whistle. I felt that I could endure anything 



206 CAMP AxND FIELD. 

rather than suspense. I followed the Confederates to the bor- 
der of the open field. A small farm house stood at a distance 
of one thousand yavds, but not a man was in sight. The sud- 
den disappearance of the party was to me significant, and 1 
concluded that they were deploying so as to encompass the 
swamp and close in on us. I turned quickly, expecting to hear 
the whiz of a bullet from a concealed Confederate. I had taken 
less than a dozen steps when a long clear whistle was heard to 
my right, answered by another on the opposite side of the 
swamp. My two friends, mistaking these for my signals, 
bounded through the woods like startled deer, toward the south 
side. 

I stopped an instant and heard a dozen whistles, followed by 
the clear command of the Confederates, "Close in!" The 
thought of going back to Libby a captive was like a knell of 
death, and I resolved to take any chance short of actual sui- 
cide rather than be taken, I had heard no sound from the east 
of the swamp and I determined upon that as the point to run. 
I tore through the low bog, lost my left shoe in the treacherous 
mire, and to increase my speed took off the other and threw it 
away. I struck a path running eastward, and, without shoes, 
fairly flew over the ground. As I leaped to the ground from a 
fallen tree that crossed the path, a tall Confederate, who had 
not heard my swift and noiseless approach, sprang to his feet, 
leaving his carbine against the tree. He tripped and fell flat, 
uttering a " whoop" like a Comanche Indian. 

I leaped squarely over him almost into the arms of three 
other Confederates, who leveled their carbines at my head and 
commanded me to halt. The fallen man, recovering his gun 
and his wits, came savagely toward me, and amid the laughter 
of his companions, in a fog-horn voice, shouted, "Surrender!" 
I hoped my two comrades might meet a better fate, but they 
were soon in sight, attended by guards. The Confederates 
hunted up my shoes and treated us with considerable kindness. 
They fed us liberally from their haversacks, admitted that our 
discovery in the swamp was a great surprise to them, and 
added that we were outside of their lines. 

We were received at Libby with a smile of pleasant recogni- 
tion by the clerk of the prison. E. W. Ross ("Little Ross"). 
The commandant, Maj. Thomas P. Turner, was seated in the 
office with his feet lazily resting upon a chair. His back was 



CAMP AND FIELD. 207 

towards us, and he was seemingly reading the Richmond En- 
quirer — a very transparent trick of the major's, as we gave 
him to understand, by our answers to the questions which Ross 
had been instructed to ask. Turner was lashed into fury by 
the ridicule rained upon him for this escape. Finding us de- 
termined to answer none of his questions, he called Sergt. 
George Stansell, and ordered him to lock us up in the spies' 
cell. 

As Stansell turned the key and bolted us in we found our- 
selves in a dark and horrible dungeon occupied by a single 
prisoner. This proved to be Captain Gates of the 33d Ohio 
Regt., who apologized for being glad to see us, as he said it 
was frightfully lonesome. Captain Gates was one of the tun- 
nelers and it is a singular fact that of the 109 who got out 
through the tunnel he was the only one retaken within the city 
limits. 

When the news of the escape reached General Winder, he 
was furious, and would not believe it until the prisoners had 
been counted for the third time. He placed the whole guard 
under arrest and locked the officers and men up in "Castle 
Thunder" pending an investigation. Curious crowds sur- 
rounded Libby daily, and particulars of the affair were eagerly 
sought. General Butler, learning of the escape, sent scouting 
parties in all directions to give aid to the fugitives. 

The recaptured officers each refused to answer questions, and 
at last the brutal Turner had thirty of us packed in a twelve foot 
square dungeon. The recapture of Colonel Rose, the brave 
engineer of the tunnel, caused the deepest regret, for all felt 
that he had bravely deserved his liberty. The tunnel was at 
last discovered through the incautious answer of a recaptured 
officer, who supposed that the Confederates already knew of it, 
and so we were released from our horrible confinement and 
restored to our former quarters. 

So ended the tunnel escape. Of the 109 who passed through 
the tunnel forty-eight were retaken and sixty-one reached the 
Union lines. Considering the meager resources of its daring 
constructors and the difficulties overcome, the Libby Prison 
tunnel takes rank among those achievements that put the 
highest test on human patience and endurance, while the story 
of the escape will always command a keen interest for students 
of our war. 



J\ STOl^V OP SfljLiOtl. 



A NIGHT MARCH IN A THUNDER-STORM AND WHAT 
WE DID AFTER WE GOT THERE. 



SIXTY-EIGHT HOURS OF TRAMPING AxND PICKETING WITH- 
OUT SLEEP. 



BY \V. F. HINMAN, 65th OHIO. 




^^URING the last days of March and the earh- part of 
April, 1862, Biiell's arm}' was on the road from 
Nashville to join Grant at Pittsburg Landing. It 
was an "easy" march, the divisions being one day 
apart in order that the road might not be encumbered. 
We lived in Sibley tents then, and each regiment had a 
bigger baggage train than a brigade did two years later. 
Wood's division — the Sixth — was composed of the Fifteenth, 
Twentieth and Twenty-first brigades. Our brigade was the 
Twentieth. It w^as then commanded by General James A. Gar- 
field. He had just been f)romoted, having earned his star by his 
recent brilliant campaign against Humphrey Marshall in Eastern 
Kentucky. He was an ideal officer. Brave, chivalrous and 
soldierly, of commanding appearance, his very presence, as he be- 
strode his horse at the head of his brigade, was, as himself once 
said of Phil Sheridan, "an inspiration." No general was ever 
more mindful of the comfort of his soldiers. Within a fortnight 
from the day he assumed the command, he possessed in the fullest 
degree the confidence and esteem of every officer and man in the 
brigade. 

For six days we jogged along at a comfortaole pace, marching 
an average of twelve miles a day. This is scarcely more than a 
comfortable stroll for an unincumbered man, but when a soldier. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 209 

carrying his arms and accouterments, weighing forty or fifty 
pounds, has traveled that distance, he is only too glad to go into 
bivouac. The road for more than half the distance was a hard 
limestone pike. The weather was warm — uncomfortably so at 
times — and the dust that arose from the tread of many thousand 
feet was well nigh suffocating. It gathered upon perspiring faces 
to such an extent that sometimes on going into camp one could 
not recognize his most intimate fi*iend. Whenever practicable, 
camp was pitched near a stream to afford facilities for very neces- 
sary^ ablution. 

So day after day we tramped and night after night we bivou- 
acked, each mile bringing us nearer to our first experience of the 
bloody horrors of war. At 4? o'clock in the morning of Sunday, 
April 6, the reveille sounded through the camp. It fell upon 
unwilling ears, for we had not yet become inured to hard march- 
ing, and there were many with weary limbs and blistered feet, to 
whom even a moderate da^^'s journey was then little else than 
torture. Could those men have foreseen the hardships and priva- 
tions of the next three da^'s, their hearts would have sunk within 
them in utter despair. Garfield's brigade was to lead that day, 
and there was no time to think of aching bones. Scarcely had 
the sound of fife and drum died away when the camp was aglow 
with the light of a hundred fires. The air w^as filled with the hum 
of bu^ preparation for the day's march. Coffee — the soldiers* 
chief solace — was hastily made and.bacon was toasted before the 
fire on sharpened sticks. These, with "hard-tack, "comprised the 
frugal but keenly-relished meal. A few chickens, and probably a 
pig or two, had been furtively brought into camp the previous 
night, supplying to a favored few succulent morsels to heighten 
the enjoyment of the matutinal meal. 

At that early stage of the war foraging had not developed into 
the science that characterized the practice of later years, and 
which was brought to the Jiighest point of perfection by the men 
known to fame as "Sherman's Bummers," when they marched 
down to the sea. Confiscation, even to fill an aching void under 
the blouse, was not permitted. The soldier wrho sought the fat- 
lings of the field or barnyard did so at his peril. There were not 



210 CAMP AND FIELD 

wanting, however, men who already gave great promise of future 
usefulness in this direction— promise, I may add, that was more 
than realized as the months and years rolled on. By some means 
known only to themselves, these gifted men were able so adroitly 
to capture and take the life of a fowl or hapless pig that it 
had no opportunity to utter a sound. We had one of them in our 
"mess." John Yarham was a most artistic fellow, and rarely 
failed to come into camp, after "running the guards," well laden 
from his nightly forays. He supplied us with much to vary the 
monotony of regulation fare. We never asked him whether he 
bought or stole what he brought in ; we simph' ate and were 
thankful. A choice bit to the Captain's mess now and then did 
much to avert oft-threatened punishment. I once saw that man 
get permission to leave the ranks, while on the march, to fill his 
canteen at a well near a farmhouse. In the yard were several 
bee-hives. He quietly tipped one of them over, with his naked 
hands scooped out the honey, bees and all, into a pail which he 
pressed into the service, regardless of the swarm which buzzed 
about him ; carried it during the remainder of the day's march, 
and then divided it among his comrades. Poor fellow ! He was 
captured at Chickamauga and died at Andersonville. 

In an hour breakfast was over, blankets were strapped, tents 
struck and wagons loaded. Soon after daylight the column was 
in motion. We were at this time about thirt\'-five miles from Sa- 
vannah. After we had been some three hours upon the road we 
were startled by the roar of far distant artillery. There could be 
no mistaking the ominous sound. Immediate^ every man 
straightened up and quickened his steps. Two hours later, a 
courier, riding in mad haste, his horse white with foam, reined 
up and delivered dispatches to General Wood. Then procuring a 
fresh horse he dashed on to meet General Thomas, whose division 
was a day's march behind. A halt was instantly ordered. It 
was not long till every man knew there was business ahead. 
We were directed to strip to "Hght marching order." Knap- 
sacks, overcoats and blankets were heaped by the roadside, to be 
loaded upon the wagons. Cartridge boxes were examined and 
filled to the complement of forty rounds, and each man was 



CAMP AND FIELD. 211 

directed to carry twenty additional rounds in his pocket. Haver- 
sacks were filled with three days' rations and canteens wiih fresh 
water from a stream near by. Then the "fall in" was sounded, 
the command, "Forward! Quick time — March!" was given and 
away we sped, followed onW b}' the artillery, ammunition train, 
hospital wagons and ambulances. 

All that Sunday afternoon we plodded on, with hourly halts of 
five minutes for rest. Thesound of cannonading continued louder 
and clearer as we approached the scene of conflict. We had al- 
ready had much experience in hard campaigning during the five 
months we had been in the service, but we had seen no fighting. 
We were like all new troops, who not only "burn to wear a uni- 
form," but feel that they are not fully developed soldiers until 
they also "hear drums and see a battle." During the ensuing 
three years, whatever of curiosity' we may have had in this direc- 
tion was satisfied a hundredfold. When, from time to time, 
recruits or new regiments came to us in the field, it was always 
just the same with them. They were valiant in spirit and in word. 
Their ears longed for the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry. 
Their nostrils were keen for the scent of burning powder. One 
actual experiment w^as always enough. Thereafter their tongues 
were silent. Thc}^ went into battle again and again, with mag- 
nificent heroism, but it was from considerations of duty and not 
because the}^ enjoyed it. 

So we talked bravely and tried to feel that way, as we marched 
rapidly on. Faces wore a serious look, and the accustomed jest 
was rarely heard. The prevailing fear seemed to be lest the battle 
would be over before we could get there — at least, each man ap- 
peared anxious to impress his comrades with the fact that such 
were his sentiments. I doubt if the world has ever seen a braver 
company of heroes than we were — at that distance from the field. 

Toward evening another courier \vas met, who delivered orders 
for the division to press on during the night and spare no effort 
to reach the field at the earliest possible moment. We were told 
that a great battle had been raging since early morning and the 
issue was doubtful. Reinforcements for Grant's army were of the 
utmost importance. Shortly before sundown a halt of half an 



212 CAMP AND FIELD, 

hour was made for supper. Fires were lighted and each man 
prepared a liberal allowance of strong coffee to fortify himself for 
the night march. As the twilight came on we again fell into ranks 
and the column moved rapidly on through the fast deepening 
shadows. 

During the afternoon we had left the macadamized highway 
and our route now lay through a wild and desolate stretch of 
country. The very rough road, full of ruts and stones and stumps, 
ran ug and down, over and around clay hills covered with a 
stunted growth of trees, with now and then a piece of lowland 
heavily timbered. The darkness came on apace. The weather 
grew rapidly colder, and ere long black clouds overspread the sky, 
entirely cutting off the dim light of the stars that had been faintly 
twinkling upon us through the trees. There was no moon, and 
if there had been it could not have pierced the dense masses of 
clouds that hung over us. But on and on \ve went, slowly grop- 
ing our way through darkness so absolute that no man could 
see his 'nearest comrade. 

It was, perhaps, ten o'clock when our ears were saluted with 
the rumblingsof thunder, betokening the storm that was at hand. 
After half an hour of preliminary skirmishing, the elements burst . 
upon us with the utmost fury. It seemed as if the artillery of the 
heavens had been massed and was firing volley after volley, with 
peals that almost shook the earth. Flashes of lightning, Winding 
in their intensity, followed each other in quick succession, and 
the rain came down in torrents. I do not remember ever to have 
experienced a more persistent and copious thunderstorm. It 
seemed as if the reservoirs had been filled to the very brim, to be 
emptied upon us as we stumbled along during that fearful 
night. Through it all we kept on, not at great speed, it is true, 
but we managed to keep moving. The rain fell without a mo- 
ment's cessation for three or four hours. The flashes of lightning 
disclosed to our view for an instant a mass of struggling men, 
drenched and drenched again, floundering in the mire and stumb- 
ling over rocks and stumps that impeded the way. Such a scene 
cannot be adeauately described, nor, indeed, scarcely imagined. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 213 

Those who passed through that experience are not likely ever to 
forget it. 

Before midnight the movement of artillery and vehicles of everv 
kind was abandoned as wholly impracticable. The cannon wheels 
sank deep into the soft earth and some of them were hopelesslv 
bemired. At first, attempts were made to help them along by 
putting a score of men at the wheels, but in manvcases the horses, 
terrified b\'the thunder and lightning, became unmanageable, and 
at length the infantry was ordered to move on, leaving the artil- 
lery to follow by daylight. All the officers dismounted and 
tramped along with the boys, for it was well-nigh impossible to 
ride. Their horses, like those of the artillery, were in a state of 
utter demoralization, and it was onh- with the greatest difficulty 
that they could be controlled. Several of them broke away in 
their fright, dashed off in the darkness and were never heard of 
more. 

Toward morning the storm had spent its furv. The rain re- 
solved itself into a sort of drizzle, which continued for many 
hours. It was a long, a very long night. It seemed as though it 
vould never end. But at last the faint rays of light began to 
streak through the dripping and gloomy woods, and they never 
looked upon a more disconsolate procession of mortals. For 
twenty-four hours we had not thought of sleep. Our wet gar- 
ments were besmeared with clay. As nearly as I can recall our 
state of mind that wretched morning, I think we were not quite 
sure whether the Union was worth saving or not. We had eaten 
nothing during the night save an occasional nibble at a half- 
soaked cracker. As soon as it was fairly daylight we halted for 
an hour's rest. It was not eas^^ to find anything that would 
burn, but by pulling down fences and a couple of deserted shanties 
we succeeded in getting some fires started. Shivering men 
crowded around them with their kettles for making coffee. The 
warmth soon began to exert its mellowing influence, and draughts 
of steaming coffee aided greatly in diffusing good cheer among 
the six thousand men that fringed the road for a mile 5n either 
«side. As our spirits, which had been at a very low ebb, began to 



214 CAMP AND FIELD. 

rise, we even indulged in a few feeble jokes at each other's expense, 
upon our dilapidated appearance. 

Our stop was brief. While drinking our coffee there came ta 
our ears, through the lieav}' and murky morning air, 

" The terrible grumble and rumble and roar, 
Telling the battle was on once more." 

The roar of cannon sounded with startling distinctness. 
"We could even hear the volleys of musketry. Savannah was now 
but five or six miles away, and by a direct line we were only ten 
or twelve miles from the battle-field. Moved bj^ a common im- 
pulse, the soldiers hurriedly emptied their cups, and scarcely wait- 
ing for the word of command, fell into line. 

"Attention — Battalion! Shoulder — Arms! Right — Face! Right 
shoulder shift — Arms ! Forward — March !" and off we went at a 
rapid gait, splashing through the mud, making all possible haste 
to reach the river. The air was cold and raw, the rain was still 
falling at intervals, and we had neither blankets nor overcoats. 
We kept on at a brisk pace, with but one or two brief halts, and 
reached Savannah about 10 o'clock. 

Here all was confusion and excitement. During the night 
steamboats had brought down from Pittsburg Landing hundreds 
of wounded men, and all the houses in the little, straggling village 
had been taken possession of for hospital purposes. Here and 
there, on porches and in yards, lay the bodies of men who had 
died during the night. Surgeons were at work in every house, 
amputating shattered limbs and dressing wounds. As we 
marched down the main street to the river, we could hear the 
groans of the sufferers. We began to see war in its ghastliest 
form. The town was full of stragglers, who in the demoralization 
of the previous day, had found their way hither. A force of offi- 
cers and men \vas engaged in gathering up the fugitives and 
organizing them into companies — they were from scores of differ- 
ent regiments — for their return to the field. Mounted officers and 
orderlies were dashing about conveying orders for the hurr3nng 
of troops and ammunition to the front. I am writing this nearly 
thirty years after that memorable April morning, but the scene isr 
before me as vivid as if it were but yesterday. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 215 

At the landing we stacked arms and were compelled to wait- 
half an hour before taking passage for the field where the battle 
was raging. The steamer on which we were to go had arrived 
shortly before, filled with the wounded, who were being carried 
on shore as fast as possible. There were scores with bleeding 
arms and legs, hobbling along as best they could, while others 
were borne upon stretchers to the various buildings and placed in 
the cai"e of the surgeons. 

I remember a brave fellow, one of whose legs had been fright- 
fulU' mangled from the knee downward by a piece of shell. As he 
was carried past us, he raised upon one elbow and exclaimed : 
*'They want you there, boys ! Hurry up, and when you get there 
just give the rascals h — 1 ! That's what they gave me yesterday, 
but we're going to lick 'em like blazes to-day!" The boys gave 
him a hearty cheer in recognition of his pluck, and he waved his 
hand in response. 

As soon as the -wounded were removed from the steamer we 
took arms and went aboard. The decks were spotted with stains 
of blood. Our own artillery had not yet come up, but another 
batter}^ which had been waiting was hastily run in upon the main 
deck, some two hundred boxes of ammunition were carried on, and 
then we steamed up the river. The boat was crowded to its ut- 
most capacity. The roar of battle was incessant, becoming more 
and more distinct as we neared the field. Halfway up we met a 
boat coming down loaded with the freshly wounded. "How is 
it?" shouted a dozen \oices. "It's bull}^ to-day! We've driven 
them all along the line!" was the answer, and a mighty shout 
went up from those on both steamers as they glided past. 

It was about 1 o'clock in the afternoon wlien the gang-plank 
was thrown out at Pittsburg Landing. General Wood was the 
first man ashore and Garfield the next. A staff officer was in 
waiting with orders. We hurriedly debarked, scrambled up the 
bank thirty feet in height, and the battle-field of Shiloh was be- 
fore us. I will not attempt to picture the awful scene, or the 
intensely exciting and absorbing circumstances that surrounded 
us. We learned by hasty inquiry that our lines had been advanced 
two miles since morning; that the enemy had been steadily forced 



216 CAMP AND FIELD. 

back and would soon, it was believed, be in full retreat. Ours 
was the advance brigade of the division. The regiments were 
quickly formed and without a moment's delay we started for the 
front. 

' ' Double-quick — March ! " « 

Away we went, over the field strewn thickly with dead and 
dying. On ever}' hand the stretcher-bearers were seen carrying 
the wounded to the rear. As we advanced, bodies clothed in blue 
and gra}' were closely intermingled, showing that the ground had 
been desperately fought over, as the wave of battle alternately 
swept this way and that. As we neared the scene of actual con- 
flict the air was filled with smoke, and now and then wild shouts 
and yells, which we correctly judged to be those of the Union 
forces, told us that all was going well. Men with bleeding 
wounds, who were able to help themselves, streamed past us 
toward the Landing. 

"Go for 'em, boys!" the}' shouted, their own sufferings entirely 
lost in the all-prevailingidea of victory. "Give 'em the best you've 
got in the shop." 

More saddening were the scenes that met our eye upon the 
ground. Here and there lay men desperately wounded, many 
unto death, screaming and moaning with pain. Some of these 
even smiled feebly and uttered faint words of cheer as we passedA 
On every side were scattered hundreds whom never again 

" The braying horn or screaming fife 
At dawn should call to arms." 

The victorious shouts of our advancing lines grew louder and 
louder, and the sound of musketry was terrific. General Garfield 
spurred his horse and dashed ahead with Wood, the brigade fol- 
lowing on a full run. Soon we came in sight of the line of battle, 
and a few stray bullets from the enemy, away beyond, began to 
fall around us. A few of our brigade were struck by these fugi- 
tive missiles, but none were killed. Garfield came back at a gallop, 
and we halted for a few moments to put our muskets in order, 
for they had been drenched by the rain of the previous night. 
Hastily wiping out the barrels>we loaded our pieces, and then 
away again on the double-quick, with arms at a "right shoulder 



CAMP AND FIELD. 217 

shift." Word came to us that the enemy was in full retreat, but 
we pressed on for three miles, when we were recalled from the 
pursuit. We shouted and yelled, with the feeling that we had at 
last earned the right to do that. It was not our fault that we 
did not find opportunity to use our muskets. 

The lines were established for the night, our position being 
about three miles from the river at a point that had been fiercely' 
fought over during the two days. By this time the wounded had 
been carried to the rear, but the dead la}^ thick upon the ground. 
The soldiers who had been fighting during Sunday and Monday 
were withdrawn and permitted to bivouac for a night of such 
sleep and rest as they could get — for men can sleep even under 
such circumstances. We were among the fresh troops stationed 
for duty at the front. How " fresh" we felt after the experience 
of the past night and two daj^s may be imagined by the reader 
who has followed this narrative. But there we remained all of 
Monday night, standing nearly the whole time in line of Isattle. 
Although an attack was not looked for, the fullest precautions 
were taken to guard against a possible dash by the enemy. 

It was another long, long night — longer it seemed, if possible, 
than the preceding, when we were floundering through the storm 
and darkness. A cold rain was falling, ever\' thread of our cloth- 
ing was saturated, and we were chilled to the verj' marrow. Our 
teeth chattered and ever\' muscle and fiber quivered as with a 
Maumee ague. Blankets and overcoats were stripped from the 
dead, who could need them no longer, to cover and warm the liv- 
ing. I have in* mind a picture of General Garfield, and Colonel 
Harker of the Sixty-fifth Ohio, as I saw them that night. They 
sat together upon a log, shivering with the cold, their shoulders 
covered b}^ wet blankets that had been picked up on the field. 
Staff officers and orderlies stood around, all on the alert for anv 
emergency that might arise. 

The morning broke at last and found us more dead than alive. 
No fires had been allowed on the outermost line, w^hich we had 
occupied. Nor were we permitted to sleep, even had we been able 
to do so, in our condition. That da\' we spent in making a wild 
rush of a dozen miles trying to catch some rebel cavalr\'. Then, 



218 CAMP AND FIELD. 

^ when we returned in the eveninjjf, came the welcome order to go 
to the rear and bivouac for the night. We went back to within a 
mile from the river, where we stacked arms, threw off accouter- 
ments — which we had carried continuously for three days and 
two nights— built fires, made coffee, toasted bacon, a fresh supply 
of which was issued to us, and ate our suppers with keen enjoy- 
ment. This over, we began to cast about for sleeping arrange- 
ments." It was midnight of Tuesday, and since four o'clock Sunday 
morning, sixty-eight hours, we had not closed our eyes. After 
the experiences during that time, as detailed in this sketch, we 
were, it is needless to say, tired. Indeed, that word is feeble 
enough to express our condition. No longer sustained by the ex- 
citement that had kept us up to a high tension, a state of exhaus- 
tion followed that no words can portray. Many sank upon the 
mudd}'^ ground, their clothes still soaked with water, and were 
soon lost in sleep. Very fortunate were the few who had been 
able to gather blankets from the battle-field. During the night 
the pitiless rain beat down tipon us again, but through it all we 
slept, many not weakening till nearly noon of the next day.' It 
w^as a week before our baggage train came up and we once more 
slept under shelter. For a time nearly half our brigade were in 
the hospitals, and as many died from the effects of those days and 
nights of hardship as would have been killed by the enemy's bul- 
lets had w^e been in the thickest of the fight during the two days 
ofShiloh. 



flOM? WE 1BE(;^(T^E5 VETEl^^I^S. 



IT WAS A GOOD THING FOR THE GOVERNMENT THAT 
THE BOYS WENT IN FOR "THREE YEARS MORE." 



BY ROBERT J. MOOKB, 40tii INDIANA. 




T has alwaj's seemed to me a singularly fortunate thing for 
^ -M the Union cause durinof the late war that the Government 
( mMm secured the re-enlistment of so many well-seasoned soldiers 
duringthe winter of 1 863-4. I may add that I have never 
ceased to wonder that the men responded with such alacrity to 
the call for "three years more." As a matter of fact, the war 
ended in a little more than a year from the time these men w^ere 
mustered in as "veterans." Had it continued through the fall 
term of their second enlistment, at the rate it was carried on dur- 
ing the fighting year of 1864, there would have been precious few 
of those veterans left. 

It is no doubt true that scarcely half of all the men who went 
to the field really became effective soldiers. The other half, more 
or less, proved physically unable to endure the terrible wear and 
tear of the service. They did not lack courage, but hard marching, 
exposure to sun and storm, sleepless nights and hunger were too 
much for them. They "gave out" and were discharged by thou- 
sands and tens of thousands. Almost any regiment, if put into 
active campaign, would, in a few months, w^ithout once smelling 
the smoke of battle, be reduced to half its original strength. The 
men who could endure all the hardships of army life became 
toughened to a degree that almost passes belief. They could 
"stand " anything. Nothing but the deadly, deadly missiles from 
musket or cannon could kill them. 

Bv the end of 1803 the regiments east and west, probably, did 
not average three hundred men. I speak of those which had seen 



220 CAMP AND FIELD. 

two years or more of hard fighting. Many were mere skeletons, 
less than two hundred strong. But these w^ere soldiers. They 
had learned the art of war. Two hundred of them were worth 
as much to an army as a thousand raw recruits. 

So, as I have said, it was a great thing to secure the re- 
enlistment of these men. How disastrous it w^ould have been 
had the soldiers who took the field in 1861 dropped out of the 
armies of the Potomac and the Cumberland at the end of their 
three years. This would have been during the summer and 
autumn of 1864, when great and important campaigns were in 
progress. The loss of the veteran soldiers at such a time would have 
been irretrievable. There-enlistment of these men was an act that 
must challenge the admiration of the world. They knew the 
danger and sufiering and death that were before them, and yet 
thev wnllingh' and cheerfully said, "Here am I," when the call 
was made. 

At the time of re-enlistment we were away up in the woods of 
East Tennessee. Immediately after the battle of Mission Ridge 
we marched, with the Fourth corps, to the relief of Burnside at 
Knoxville. That march from Chattanooga was full of discom- 
fort, hardship and suffering. When we started, the weather was 
rainy and the woods were a mass of mud. Then it turned cold, 
and the mercury went below the freezing point — or it would if v^e 
had had anv thermometers. We had no tents and many had no 
overcoats or blankets. We had been hurried away after the bat- 
tle and had no opportunity to procure the supplies of clothing 
we so greatly needed. 

Before w^e reached Knoxville the siege had been raised, and 
Longstreet, who gave it up after his fruitless and bloody attack 
on Fort Sanders, was on his way to rejoinLee'sarmy in Virginia. 
We pushed out upon his trail, coming to a halt near Blaine's 
Cross Roads. By this time the weather was extremely severe. 
Snow covered the ground to the depth of several inches and it 
was bitterly cold. No one who was there, shivering around the 
fires, with no protection but rude shelters made of rails and the 
boughs of trees, can ever forget that terrible New Year's day, 
1864. Many of the soldiers had their extremities frozen, and the 
sufiering that all experienced w^as greater than words can portray. 

It was at such a time that the proposition was submitted to 
enlist "for three years more." It would seem that the hard- 
ships of the month previous would have but poorly prepared the 
men to receive it with favor. It is no doubt true, however, that 
the promise of a thirty days' furlough at home was not without 



CAMP AND FIKLD, 221 

its allurements. In a less degree, the large bounties offered to those 
who should re-enlist may have had some weight, although money 
was but a small recompense for the exposure, fatigue and suffer- 
ing of a soldier's life, to say nothing of the danger of death or 
mutilation in battle. 

The subject was discussed in all its phases by the poorlv clad 
and half-fed soldiers as, begrimed with dirt and smoke, they 
hovered around the fires. At first there were but few who ex- 
pressed their willingness to "go in." But it became contagious, 
and by the 1?*me the proper ])apers were received from Washington 
and the mustering officer made his appearance, a good part of 
the bo\'s had worked themselves up to the point. Most of them 
had not seen "God's country" for more than two years, and the 
thought of a whole month at home was exceedingly "fetching." 

When the roll wjis produced Jind wc were asked to sign it, there 
was a general rush, which did not cease until more than halfthe regi- 
ment had put down their names. Then it went a little more slowly. 
The matter w^as not hurried. Time was given for the leaven to do 
its perfect work among the more obdurate ones. Of course those 
w^hohad "crossed the Rubicoji" and Ijurned thebridge behind them 
did all in their power to induce their comrades to follow their ex- 
ample. One by one they w^ere won over, until enough had re- 
enlisted to insure the continuance of the organization as a 
"veteran" regiment. Then there was great rejoicing as the boys 
laid their plans for going hc;me. By the time we started nearly 
all had taken the important step. A few, who felt that thev had 
had enough, held out to the last. Their term would expire in a 
few months, and they chose to serve out their three years and 
then go home to stay. No persuasion or jiromises of bounty 
or furlough could induce them to change their minds. 

It was with light and happy hearts that v^e "fell in " at last to 
start for Indiana. We thought then only of the present, and not 
of the three long years before us which might elapse before the 
war closed. In such an event not many of us would be left. Now 
we were going home, and that blessed thought wholly occupied 
our minds. And what a glorious time we had ! What heroes we 
were, and how our mothers and sisters stuffed us with gpod 
things! Those were happy days indeed. Thev flew by all too 
quickly, and the time came for us to start back, with bright, new 
flags and uniforms, to engage again in cruel war. In a few days 
we plunged into the Atlanta campaign. Before it closed many a 
veteran had made the sacrifice of life for country's sake. 



JULY 1, 2, 3, 1863. 

THE HILLS ROCK AND TREMBLE UNDER THE TERRIBLE TUMULT. 



The Air Full of Hissing, "Whizzing Missiles of Death. 



By CHAS. E. TROUTMAN, Lieutenant Company G, I 2th N. J. Regiment. 




N the morning of July 1, the 3d Division, 2d Corps, 
moved along the Taneytown road, filed into a field, 
and awaited developments. About one or two o'clock 
that afternoon the sound of artillery told us that our 
distant front had found the 
head of the bold invader. 
At sunset we were met by dis- 
mantled artillery, wounded 
men, and ambulances slowly 
winding to the rear with the 
dying. Upon each ambu- 
lance and each cap was seen 
the full moon or the crescent, 
showing that the 1st and 11th 
Corps had been at it. About 
dark, we filed into a meadow 
near Rock Creek, just in the 
rear of Round Top. All was 
excitement; the battle had gone against us; Reynolds was dead, 
and thus night fell on the evening of the first day. At dawn 
we moved up the Taneytown road, past General Meade's head- 
quarters, a two-roomed frame house, with sunflowers near the 
doorstep. Marching on we went up a gentle rise, in the rear of 
an orchard, on the crest overlooking the valley, the western edge 
of which was bounded by Seminary Ridge. There we remained 
during that long summer morning smoking and chatting, con- 




CAMP AND FIELD. 223 

jecturing as to the probable results of our next move. Two 
batteries were exchanging compliments with those of the 
enemy, whose shells plunged and tore up the sod around us. " 

Toward evening a body of North Carolina sharpshooters en- 
sconced themselves in a house and barn midway between the 
lines, and rendered it unsafe to work the batteries on our right 
and left front. A battalion of the regiment to which I was 
attached was ordered to dislodge them, so down the slope we 
went — Col. Thomas A. Smyth, commanding the brigade, leading 
the way — until the Emmittsburg road was reached. Three 
cheers were given — a man fell dead for every cheer. Nothing 
daunted the battalion dashed over the intervening space of five 
hundred yards to where the enemy was concealed. Every 
minie that left that barn was distinctly heard from the muzzle 
of the rifle until it struck something. A captain of one of the 
companies running beside the writer was struck just above the 
right eye. It was zip, zip, all the way across the meadows. 
Over the fence we went, through the barnyard knee deep in 
manure, but not an enemy was to be seen. 

A constant shuffling above told us that the foe was still in 
possession, but so were we. It was certain death to charge up 
the ladder to the loft above, but at last a venturesome youth, 
whose curiosity exceeded his fear, climbed the ladder until his 
eyes were above the level of the upper floor. The sight satis- 
fied him, for with a shout he loosened his hold and came down 
amoirg us, accompanied by three Confederates, who, in making 
a dash at him, had fallen through. I do not know how it hap- 
pened, but this fortunate capture seemed to be the signal for 
the surrender of the whole force above. A detail of ten or fif- 
teen men was then ordered to charge the house, as we were 
convinced that there was a body of sharpshooters there, too. 
We ran through the garden through lilac, rose, and raspberry 
bushes. The berries on the latter were temptingly hanging, but 
there was more serious business. A rattling, splitting sound, 
and the picket fence went down, and the remnant of us dashed 
into the kitchen door, where twelve men were captured. After 
capturing one more man — discovered in an old-fashioned cup- 
board — we heard the sound of the recall, and ran back over the 
meadow, under a live archway of shells. 

Early the next morning, the barn and house were burned by 
a detachment of the 14th Conn., under the orders of Colonel 



224 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Smyth. The division was moved to the front, its left resting- 
on Arnold's 1st R. I. Battery, its right on the left of the 1st 
Corps, that occupied the cemetery. The 71st or 72d Penn. had 
its right resting on the battery, leaving an interval between our 
extreme left and the 2d Division for the battery to play through. 
The right of the regiment to which I was attached rested at a 
small house and barn, which was used as the headquarters of 
General Hays, our division commander. In front was a low 
stone wall. The ground sloped gradually from about fifteen 
yards in our rear to the Emmittsburg pike, when the valley was 
apparently level for about six hundred yards. Then there was 
a gradual rise until it reached Seminary Ridge, top of which 
was crowned with a dense woody growth. Between us and the 
ridge were fields of ripening wheat and clover and growing 
corn, with fences intact; presenting such a picture as would 
delight the soul of an artist. 

The morning of the third was quiet — ominously so. Occa- 
sionally the sharp sputter of the skirmish fire would arouse our 
interest. We conversed in little groups, wandered about, or 
sat under the shade, for the day got to be excessively hot. At 
12.30 coffee was put to boiling, pipes were lighted, and the men 
were preparing to while away the afternoon as best they could. 
Just then, off to the enemy's left, a gun was heard. A second 
or two of anxious suspense followed, and immediately over our 
heads, close enough to feel the rush of air, flew a screaming 
shell. There was a chance to count five slowly, when about op- 
posite Round Top, came a "boom," followed by another, and 
then the earth began to shake. Away went coffee pots, haver- 
sacks, pipes, everything, and each man flattened himself against 
mother earth. One hundred and twenty-eight guns opened 
their black throats all along Seminary Ridge and hurled murder 
and sudden death at us; the hills fairly rocked and trembled; 
the air was fllled with hurling, hissing, whizzing, rattling pro- 
jectiles. It seemed as if nothing could stand such a fire; aye, 
that the very soil itself would be swept from that crest. Order- 
lies dashed through the orchard to headquarters, crouching 
low over the saddle with shoulders drawn up, like men caught 
in a sudden hailstorm. Amid the unearthly clangor, and 
above it all, could be heard the clear voice of the command- 
ing officer of a battery to our left, unconcernedly giving his 
orders. 



CAMP AND FIEI.U. 225 

This storm continued until about 4 p. m., when the slackened 
fire betokened the approach of the terrible infantry lines. The 
smoke of the opposing guns had settled low in the valley, and 
our division was in the hush of expectancy. Then the sputter- 
ing fire along the skirmish line told us of an infantry advance. 
A gentle breeze rolled away the curtain and opened to our view 
a magnificent array; Pickett's Virginians and Pettigrew's North 
Carolinians were moving over the intervening valley in two 
compact lines of battle. Hays rode down the line, sternly bid- 
ding every man to keep hidden from view. One man, in his 
eagerness to watch the approaching enemy, rose to his feet. 
*' Lie down!" roared Hays, "lie down like that man;" pointing 
to a figure at his feet. "That man is dead, general." " I wish 
you were; be quiet." Then turning to his orderly, the division 
color bearer, he spoke: "Orderly! when we are attacked I ex- 
pect to ride where danger is the thickest; do you think you will 
keep up with that flag, even if I ride to hell?" Touching Kis 
cap visor. " With pleasure," said the orderly. " General, if you 
reach hell, just look out the window and you'll see the little blue 
trefoil fluttering behind you." On came the enemy, pecked by 
the little skirmish line retreating before it. The bugle now 
sounded the recall, and the skirmishers came dashing to our 
lines. Then Arnold's and other batteries opened with grape 
and canister upon the advancing line. Men were literally 
blown into the air, but the gaps were closed; no hurry, no 
wavering, but steadily moving onward, the movement eliciting 
admiration from those who were so soon to mow them down. 

When thirty yards distant general officers rode up and down 
the ranks, exhorting and inspiring our men. With a roar and 
a yell the enemy now rushed toward our position. Fences dis- 
appeared as if of pasteboard. There was silence in our divis- 
ion until the first line was just lapping the Emmittsburg road, 
when we heard the order, ''Fire!'' A sheet of flame, a clash 
of musketry, and the first line melted. On came the second, 
not in line, but in isolated groups, intent upon reaching the 
crest. The shouts of combatants, surging lines, and roar of 
artillery made a picture that cannot be imagined, much less 
described. Color Sergeant Cheeseman, of Camden, N. J., at 
this supreme moment leaped over the stone wall, ran hurriedly 
almost to the Emmittsburg pike, and with a fearful blow of his 
fist felled the color bearer of one of the enemy's regiments, 



226 



CAMP ANID FIELft-. 



grasped his flag, and gayly trotted back to tlie lines, waving it 
over his head, and this amid the heavy musketry tire of both 
lines. Brave fellow! He sleeps in the ^Vilderness. Mortals 
eouid not stand the territie fire that swept the valley. Pettigrew 
broke and ran. the line crumbled and gav(^ way. Pickett's divis- 
ion s-wept on and had a hand-to-hand conflict with the 'Mst and 
7 '.Hi Penn. Regts. of the 3d Division, and then went reeling back 
over the valley into the woods, from which it had so bno3'antly 
and gallantly emerged. 



^^^^^xv^\\v\\v^^x\\v\\Vv^xvAJ^ 



♦|-^=r^(3=:^*-H|, 



^X\\X\\X\\X\\X\\'V\\XN\V^XVN*N\V 



GRANDEST CHARGE. 



^^^IIE grandest charge of the war is 
wj^r? si^id by General Sheridan to have 
S^ been made by General Crook, at 
Fislier's Hill. September. 1804. 



KUN O.K I^IClvHT POST. 

BY A LEWISTON (MAINE) MEMBER OF THE G. A, R. 



jHEN I was in the service, we used 
5^ to tuoli it pretty hard to the raw 
recruits, sometimes. I remember 
one fellow in particular, who 
*** joined our regiment when we 
were in Virginia. He was a raw-boned 
fellow, who had come to the war to gain 
a big commission in the army. He w as 
about as green a chap in military 
affairs as T ever saw. This recruit w as 
always talking about how he wanted us 
boys to teach him all the ins and outs 
of a soldier's life. He had heard a 
good deal about picket post duty, and 
was awfully concerned lest he would 
bring up wanting in this capacity. 

Most of the boys found out, by what 
the raw recruit said about it. that his 



idea of picket post duty was being able 
to balance one's self on a picket post. 
So one day we knocked a picket off an 
old fence, stuck it in the ground, and 
told him to stand up on it and practice 
balancing awhile. Every man in the 
regiment kept his face as sober as a 
jiulgo, and the recruit worked away try- 
ing to balance himself on that picket 
post till he was all worn out. The 
captain of my company came up about 
dusk and saw what we were doing with 
the poor fellow, gave lis all a good 
blowing np, and comforted the recruit 
as best he could. Ever after that time 
that fellow went by the name of the 
Picket Post. But he was a brave sol- 
dier, and won a captain's laurels. 



With ^-^^ Kershaw sl at* Gettysburg. 




JULYS, W^ 1863. 

A Desperate Contest.— Confederates ^j|ja Win and Lose Little Round Top. 




►E broke camp near Frederickslmrg, in June, 1863. 
Our march was through the towns of Culpeper, Win- 
chester, Martinsl^ui-g, and Chambersburg, and at the 
^ latter j)lace we took a much needed rest of two or 
three days. 

On the morning of the 1st of July we started in the direction 
of Gettysburg, arriving near the battle field about dawn of the 
second, and halted in a clover field. After a short time we were 
ordered into line, and with beating hearts moved in the direc- 
tion of the enemy, thinking that we would soon l^e engaged in 
mortal combat. From some unexplained cause Kershaw's brig- 
ade was maneuvering near the Federal lines, until late in the 
afternoon. Just before sunset we were ordered to form line of 
battle on a slight eminence, in full view of Round Top, and 
also of the hills or ridge in the direction of Cemetery Hill, now 
occupied by Federal infantry. A level plain of half a mile or 
more was in our front, and near a peach orchard some eight 
hundred yards distant from our lines a battery was planted, 
commanding every foot of our advance. 

General Longstreet and his aids were in our front, scanning 
the strong and almost impregnable position of General Meade. 
The battery opened upon him, but the " old war horse" never 
flinched or changed his position until through with his observa- 
tions, when, shutting up his glass, and walking to the rear, he 
ordered Hood's brigade, on our immediate right, to advance. 
With a yell, the Texans rushed forward, sweeping everything 
before them, until they seemed to have reached the rummit of 



228 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Little Round Top, when, for the want of support, tliey were 
compelled to retire. It has been years since I heard that yell, 
yet it seems to be now ringing in my ears. 

Kershaw's •brigfi.de moved over the level field in front of the 
battery near the orchard in perfect order, while grape and can- 
ister went crashing through the ranks. It seemed that none 
could escape. My face was fanned time and again by the 
deadly missiles. 

We arrived within one hundred yards of the battery with- 
out having fired a shot. The artillerists were limbering up 
their pieces to seemingly retire, for in a few minutes they 
would have been in our possession. At this particular minute 
we heard in a clear, ringing tone, above the din of conflict the 
command, "By the right flank!" True to our sense of duty 
we obeyed the command. Why it was given or by whom, the 
private soldiers and company officers could never learn. The 
artillerists, seeing our change of directions, returned to their 
guns and poured destruction into our fast thinning ranks. 

Tlie adjutant of my regiment was by my side when he was 
struck on the foot with a grape or canister shot, and painfully 
but not dangerously wounded. Wisliing to render him what 
aid I could, I asked what I could do for him. He said: "' Please 
cut off my boot." I immediately complied with his request, 
cutting it from top to toe. He took one swift, eager look at the 
battery, turned his back to the foe, and made the best time on 
record, until he reached a place of safety. I can see him run- 
ning now, with one foot naked, bleeding, and mangled, and the. 
other encased in a long cavalry boot. The gallant fellow sur- 
vived the war and has since been honored with public office. I 
have met him once only and when jestingly reminded of the 
great speed he made through the oat field, he did not seem to 
relish it. The battery of which I have been writing was after- 
ward captured by Barksdale's Miss, brigade, which was on our 
immediate left. Our troops were severely punished however. 
Night put an end to the conflict, and whien my regiment was 
reformed but a handful of men answered to their names at roll 
call. We bivouacked on the battle field and expected an early 
attack from the enemy, but no advance was made by either 
side until Pickett's tremendous assault and awful loss on the 
afternoon of the od. 



CAMP AND FIET.D. 



229 



UlvRIC Dahloren. 



A TRIBUTE TO A BRAVE OEKICER. 

REV. CHAS. W. DENISON. 



'E met at Harper's Ferry, in the 
gorges of the hills, 
J™ Where, chasing the Potoinac, 
come leaping down the rills ; 
We stood in Union armor by Shenan- 
doah's tide, 
And ready for the battle ; Sigel was by 

our side. 
The frowning Heights of Maryland, 

with waving plumes of gray, 
Tln-ough the autunuial twilight bade 

grand adieus that day ; 
The table rock of Jefferson gloamed in 

the darkness there, 
And the spirits of the patriot seemed 
hovering in the air. 

O, scene of desolation ! The guilt and 
woe and shame 

Of slavery in rebellion had burnt the 
land with flame ; 

The sleep of Justice wakened by Mon- 
ticello's grave, 

And in conflict with the master she 
sided with the slave. 

In that historic temple where Wash- 
ington had stood, 

Before the shattered altars in old Vir- 
ginia's wood, 

Young Dahlgren raised his sworded 
hand and sacredly he vowed, 

" My country's banner shall prevail, or 
be my winding shroud." 

So spoke the boy that evening ; then 

dashed along the right, 
And in the name of Freedom put 

slavish hordes to fliglit ; 



At Fredericksburg embattled, he strode 

the crimson field. 
His watchword of the column, " To 

traitors nevej' yield ! " 
Through the dark haze of Gettysburg 

he flashed a living flame, 
And on the scroll of heroes wrote his 

own immortal name ; 
With the torn flag of Hagerstown his 

body shrouded round. 
He . fought oppression's myrmidons 

stretched bleeding on the ground ; 
Then, torn and nuiimed and weak, he 

rose as valiant as of yore ; 
He was of age that day of grace — he 

was a man before. 



O manful boy ! O youthful peer ! O 

Ulric, the brave ! 
The proudest of thy pa^triot deeds shall 

monument thy grave ; 
Around thy hidden sod at night the 

grateful slave shall cling, 
And in fond tones tln'ough Libby's 

cells thy requiem shall ring. 
Almost alone, without the ti-ump and 

blazonry of war. 
In darkness, hand to hand with death, 

thou wert death's conqueror. 
Above that spot our flag will float, but 

not thy shroud ; 'twill be 
The pennon call to avenge thy fall 

borne over land and sea; 
With Winthrop and with Lyon, with 

Foote and Shaw art thou, 
And Dahlgren shines with them hence- 
forth on Freedom's starry brow. 



THIRD DAY AT GETTYSBURG. 

General Pickett's Brave Charge and Repulse. 

JULY 8, 1868. 
WILLIAM MILLER OWEN, Colonel Battalion Washington Artillery. 





T daybreak, the 3d of July, 1863, we were awakened 
in front of Gettysburg by the booming of cannon over 
toward the peach orchard, where Longstreet's corps 
had fought on the afternoon of the 3d, Saddling our 
we rode in the direction of 
the firing, which ceased before we 
reached the battery engaged. I was 
acting on that memorable day as 
adjutant of the artillery division of 
Longstreet's corps, under Col. J. B. 
Walton, chief of artillery. 

We were with the artillery officers, 
Bitting upon our horses, in a little oak 
grove near the peach orchard, await- 
ing the opening of the fray, when a 
courier rode up and handed Colonel Walton a dispatch. It was 
from General Longstreet, requesting Colonel Walton to come 
TO headquarters on the field. We put our horses to a gallop, 
and when we reached the spot indicated, met there several 
division commanders and Gen. R. E. Lee. 

A plan of attack was being discussed. At a given signal — 
the firing of two guns by the Washington Artillery at the 
peach orchard — all the Confederate guns were to open upon the 
enemy's position, to prepare the way for our infantry to attack. 
The assaulting column was to consist of Pickett's division, sup- 
ported left by Heth's division of A. P. Hill's corps, and right by 
Wilcox's division. 




CAMP AND FIELD. 231 

I was directed to notify the commanders of battalions to open 
fire upon hearing the signal. Upon my return to General Long- 
street I found him dismounted and talking with General Pickett. 
The general said: "'All right; tell Colonel Walton I will send 
him word w^hen to open." 

At 1.30 P.M. a courier dashed up in great haste, holding a 
little slip of paper, torn from a memorandum book, and 
addressed to Colonel Walton. 

Headquarters, July 3, 1863. 
Colonel — Let the batteries open. Order great care and precision in firing. 
If the batteries at the peacli orcliard cannot be used against the point we intend 
attacking, let them open on the enemy on the rocky hill. 

Most respectfully, J. Long street, 

Lieutenant-General Commanding. 

The order to fire the signal guns was immediately communi- 
cated to Major Eshleman, commanding the Washington Artil- 
lery, and the report of the guns rang out upon the still summer 
air. Then came a roar and a fiash, and 138 pieces of Confed- 
erate artillery opened upon the enemy's position. The deadly 
work began with the noise of heaviest thunder, echoing and 
re-echoing among the hills and valleys of Pennsylvania. 

The Federal artillery, numbering almost as many guns as the 
Confederate, replied immediately, and the battle of the 3d of 
July had opened. Shot and shell tore through the air and 
plowed great furrows in the fields, and crashed through 
batteries, tearing men and horses to pieces. It was a grand but 
terrific sight. 

For forty minutes the dreadful din continued, until the can- 
noneers, exhausted with their work, and fainting from the heat 
of that July day, slackened the fire, and finally hardly a gun 
w^as heard from either combatants. Then Pickett's brave Vir- 
ginians formed for the assault, their gallant commander rid- 
ing up and down his lines, talking calmly to officers and men. 
Longstreet could not bear to give the order to throw these 
men against the breastworks of the enemy, and when at last 
Pickett said, "Shall 1 go forward, sir?" Longstreet turned 
away his head. Pickett, proudly and impetuously said, with the 
air of an old crusader, " Sir, I shall lead my division forward." 

Orders from the officers now rang out, " Attention! " and the 
brave fellows could be heard calling out to friends and com- 
rades a few files from them, " Good-by, boys! good-by!" The 



232 CAME' AND FIELR. 

final order came from Pickett himself, who, superbly 
mounted, seemed the very incarnation of war. '"Column for- 
ward! guide center!" and the brigades of Kemper, Armistead, 
and Garnett moved forward in common time, their battle 
flags fluttering as they passed over the greensward. It was 
nearly a mile they had to charge, and the enemy's artillery 
made great gaps in the ranks, which were closed up as fast as 
made. 

Heth's division, under General Pettigrew, emerged from the 
timber, and followed Pickett on his left flank and in echelon. 
Wilcox moved out upon his right. Pickett's lines were seen to 
halt, and u^ider a tremendous fire he changed direction by an 
oblique movement, beautifully, coolly, and deliberately made. 
They then advanced again and the Confederate artillery re- 
opened, firing over the heads of the advancing lines. 

Forward the brave Virginians went until they were within 
range of the Federal infantry behind the stone walls on Ceme- 
tery Hill. Then the blue line arose, and poured a deadly fire 
into the Confederate ranks. The Confederates responded with 
a wild yell and pushed on unfalteringly. A body of Federals 
were seen emerging from a clump of trees on the left of Petti- 
grew. Taken by surprise they faltered, and fell back, as the 
best troops will do when taken at a disadvantage. 

Pickett's men had crossed the Federal lines and had laid their 
hands upon eleven of the enemy's cannon, and were in the full 
flush of victory, when news came to Pickett, conveyed by 
Colonel Latrobe of Longstreet's staff, of the disaster that had 
befallen his supports. He galloped back to try and rally the 
fugitives, but they could not form under that storm. Finding 
himself unsupported, each of his flanks assailed, his generals, 
Kemper, Armistead, and Garnett, and all of his field officers 
killed or wounded, his men falling by scores around him, he 
gave his orders to fall back. 

"Wagram"had been eclipsed, and they had won undying 
renown. Whenever Gettysburg is spoken off. by friend or foe, 
the charge of Pickett and his men will be recalled with the 
same pride Englishmen feel when speaking of Balaklava. 



^^s^^-i) 




Battle of Prairie Grove. 



A HIGHLY IMPORTANT CAMPAIGN IN 1862. 



THE PART PLAYED BY SOME OF THE WESTERN TROOPS. 
AN LNFAMOUS ADDRESS BY THE REBEL HINDMAN. 



COLONEL H. A. STARR, 20th WISCONSIN. 




JHIS battle was fought at a time when the eyes of the 
country were turned toward the East, and over- 
shadowed b}' the engagements around Fredericks- 
burg, Virginia, and Perryville, etc., in Tennessee. It 
was a battle of prominence and of great import to Missouri, 
Western Arkansas and Kansas, for if the Confederates had won 
the fight, there was nothing to prevent them from over-running 
Missouri from the w^est to St. Louis on the Mississippi river and 
no obstacles in their way to Western Arkansas or Kansas; but 
the God of battles decided otherwise, and now when we take a 
retrospective view of aftairs, we wonder that things are thus. 

Prairie Grove, or IllinoisCreek, about ten miles south-west of 
Fayetteville, is a vale of about a mile in length, from 300 to 600 
yards wide, in shape like a horseshoe, with the creek running the 
north side of the vale; on the north side, the woods slope grad- 
ually to the creek, and on the south side is a high wooded bluff. 
The situation of the Arm\^ of the Frontier was as follows : 
General Pilunt, with the First division, at Cane Hill and Rhea's Mills. 
Colonel Houston, with Second division, was in camp 22 miles 
south of Springfield. Missouri, and General Herron, with the Third 
division, was at Wilson's Creek, Missouri, 110 miles awav. 

On the second of December, General Blunt, having reliable in- 
formation that the rebel Generals, Hindman andMarmaduke.had 



234 CAMP AND FIELD. 

united their forces at Lee's Creek, 14- miles north of Van Buren, 
Arkansas, and numbering between 25,000 and 30,000 men, with 
the intention of attacking him, immediately dispatched couriers to 
the Second division (Colonel Houston) and Third division (General 
Herron) to come immediately to his support. In three hours 
after receipt of the order, the Third division was on the 
march and the Second division shorth' after. 

Determining to hold his position at Cane Hill, General Blunt 
established a strong picket force at the junction of the road from 
Van Buren and also where that road intersects the Cave Creek 
road from Fayetteville to Van Buren, which roads pass about six 
miles east of Cane Hill. On the morning of the fifth instant, this 
out-post, composed of the Second Kansas cavalry, was attacked 
by the rebel cavalry, but were repulsed. On the attack being re- 
newed the next morning, the Second Kansas were forced to retire 
three miles, when support having reached them, the\' held their 
ground during the day, but the rebs had got possession of the 
Cave Creek and Fayetteville road and were moving on the sixth 
with 15,000 men, and were making a flank movement to inter- 
cept Herron's division and prevent his junction with Blunt's 
iorces, rebel General Marmaduke at the same time making a 
feint in front of General Blunt to prevent him from assisting Her- 
ron, while the balance of Hindman's artillery and infantry, about 
15,000 men, were moving to meet Herron. It was early in the 
morning of the seventh that Herron's advance cavalry imder 
Colonel L.R. Harrison, were surprised at breakfast, bv the rebels, 
and the majority of them captured, including Major Hubbard, 
of General Herron's stafi', who was immediately interviewed bv 
General Hindman, in the hopes of ascertaining the position, 
strength and quality of the Union troops, but the interview was 
not satisfactory to the rebel general, and induced him to be more 
cautious in his operations when he was informed that the Union 
troops were composed of Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and Wisconsin 
men, when he had been informed otherwise. The portion of the 
First Arkansas cavalry regiment who got awavcame flyingback, 
and, rushing into the First brigade of General Herron's ad- 
vance, were immediately stopped, and Lieutenant Colonel Bert- 
ram, commanding First brigade, instantly deployed two com- 
panies of his command, each side of the road, who gave a couple 
of volleys to the rebs in pursuit which sent them flving back. 
The First brigade was deplo3'ed to the right of the road and the 
Second to the left and moved forward to the Illinois Creek, where 
line of battle was formed and in support of battery "L" Missouri 



CAMP AND FIELD. ZoO 

light artillery, Captain Back of First brigade, Colonel Bertram 
commanding, and battery "E" Missouri light artillery, Lieuten- 
ant Foust supported by Second brigade, ColoneOrme, command- 
ing. Colonel Houston, commanding Second division, with two 
brigades formed on the right of the Third division. The rebels 
\vere well posted on the south side of the valley on the brow of 
the hill. 

Batteries "L" and "E" opened on the enemy for about half an 
hour, when Colonel Bertram of the First brigade, whose force at 
this time comprised the Twentieth Wisconsin Infantry, Major H. 
A. Starr, and battery "L" (his cavalry the Tenth Illinois, First 
Iowa, and First battalion of the Second Wisconsin, having been 
ordered on the fifth to report to General Blunt at Cane Hill) 
noticed a battery getting into position on the brow of the hill 
opposite; the order to advance was given, and leaving the battery, 
which they were supporting, marched across the valley. It was 
a fine sight to see this regiment moving in line of battle, not 400 
strong, with colors flving, and bright arms glistening in the sun. 
The rebel battery was passed, its guns spiked, and forward they 
moved into an ambush of death; three thousand rebs awaited till 
they got within a few yards, and opened a terrible fire, which was 
returned by the regiment, holding their own as long as possible. 
The order to break to the rear was given, and they fell back and 
reformed on their first position, leaving 217 killed and wounded 
on the hill. It was there the entire color guard and two color 
bearers, and the brave Captain McDermott of Boscobel, and 
Lieutenant Bintlifif of Darlington, Captain Weber of Watertown, 
and Lieutenant G. W. Root of Ripon, were killed. Captain J. 
Ferguson of Milwaukee, Lieutenant Nathan Cole of Cheboygan, 
Lieutenant A. F. Blake of Racine, as well as eight other oflicers, 
were severely wounded. 

The Nineteenth Iowa followed the movement, en echelon, on 
the left of the Twentieth Wisconsin, and were driven back with 
loss of their Lieutenant-Colonel McFarland, five officers and 187 
men. The Thirty-seventh Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonel J. C. Black, 
made the charge over the ground of the Nineteenth Iowa and 
^vere forced back with a loss of three officers and 72 men. Colonel 
Black being severely wounded. The Twenty-sixth Indiana, 
Colonel J. G. Clark, followed the Thirty-seventh Illinois, and were 
driven back with a loss of eight officers and 193 men. These 
charges were desperate, but struck a terror in the rebel ranks and 
proved that they were not contending with Pin Indians or hired 
cut throats. 



2^6 CAMP AND FIELD. 

The Twentieth Iowa, Lieutenant J. B. Leake, was active on the 
extreme right, and supporting Rabb's Second Indiana battery; 
charging forward into the wood the^^ held their ground for fifteen 
or twenty minutes, but were compelled to retire to position near 
the battery, the battery meanwhile firing over their heads. Per- 
ceiving a force approaching on their right, they changed front, 
but it proved to be General Blunt, with a portion of the First 
division, who, forming on the right of the Second division, opened 
on the rebs in a decided manner and at a most opportune mo- 
ment, for the rebs were massing a large body for the purpose of 
flanking General Herron's right when they were confronted by 
the reinforcements of the First division (General Blunt). 

The Ninet^'-fourth Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonel J. McNulty, was 
gallantlv engaged on the extreme left protecting the flank and 
successfully opposed several charges of the enemy ; their loss dur- 
ing the day was one killed and thirty-three wounded. 

Rabb's batter}^ opened the ball for General Blunt, and a few 
minutes after, Tenny's battery of Parrot guns, on the right ot 
Rabb, and Hopkins' battery on the left of Rabb, opened on a 
large body of infantry and two rebel batteries with shell and 
case shot, with terrible effect. 

General Blunt, observing that the enemf was throwing a large 
force on his center and right, directed the infantry of the First 
division. Colonel Weer, Tenth and Thirteenth Kansas ; Second 
Kansas, dismounted. Captain Crawford; right wing of the 
Eleventh Kansas, Colonel Ewing, Jr. ; First Indiana, Colonel 
Wattles; the Twentieth Iowa, Lieutenant-Colonel Leake, on the 
left of the Indian regiment, to enter the wood and engage the 
rebel force, wdio outnumbered the Union troops three to one. 
The contest was vigorous, and each of the forces swaj'^ed to and 
fro, alternately advancing and retiring. Lieutenant Stover 
was directed to advance into the wood with his two 
12-pounder mountain Howitzers, and take position on a 
knoll and direct his guns across a field where a force of rebels 
Avere massed. He poured in canister and shell until his horses 
were shot down and ammunition exhausted, and was compelled 
to bring his guns off by hand. Lieutenant Tenn}^ advanced his 
battery to the edge of the woods, about two hundred yards in 
front of the rebel ranks. From his six 10-pounder Parrots he 
opened with terrible effect, and drove them with great slaughter. 

The First Iowa, Tenth Illinois, Eighth Missouri and first bat- 
talion Second Wisconsin cavalry, and Third Wisconsin 
cavalry, under Colonel Wickersham, were ordered to the 



CAMP AND FIT^LD. 237 

extreme right to watch any flank movement of the enemy 
that might be attempted, and aiso guard the road to 
Rhea's Mills, and keep open communication with the First 
brigade (General Solomon). A heavy force of rebs massing on 
the right, General Blunt withdrew Lieutenant Tennv's batterv, 
and moved to an open field on the right, and the infantry from, 
the wood, in order to draw the enemy within range of the artil- 
lery, and at this moment General Frost's rebel division advanced 
to within two hundred yards, and opened a brisk fire with Enfield 
muskets, and were in the act of throwing down a fence to make 
an assault on the battery, when Lieutenant Tenny instantly 
wheeled his Parrot guns into position, and with his canister and 
shell sent the rebs back to the woods. At the same time, two 
mountain Howitzers, attached to the Third Wisconsin cavalry, 
Lieutenant-Colonel Calkins, were directed at them with good ef- 
fect (it was at this point the rebel General Steen was killed). A 
few minutes after this last repulse of the enemy by Lieutenant 
Tenny, a rebel battery of ten guns opened from their extreme 
left, w^hen Tenny 's guns were brought to bear on them, dismoimt- 
ing two of their pieces, and driving them from their position with 
heavy loss. While this demonstration was made on General 
Blunt's right, the same was made on Rabb's and Hopkins' bat- 
teries on his left, the rebels following up the infantry, as they fell 
back through the wood, with yells, when the two batteries, sup- 
ported by the Eleventh Kansas infantry, sent a storm of canister 
into their ranks, compelling them to retire with great slaughter. 

Darkness approaching, the firing, which had been incessant for 
three hours, gradually ceased along the entire line, and the differ- 
ent commands bivouacked on the field, read\' to renew the con- 
flict the next morning. 

The wounded were cared for during the night, ammunition dis- 
tributed, and General Solomon's brigade, which had been left at 
Rhea's Mills, ordered to the front. 

Before daylight, under a flag of truce, a note was received from 
General Hindman, asking for a personal interview, and the fol- 
lowing conversation was had : 

General Hindman — "Ah, General Blunt, it would please me to 
have a fight with your forces on an open field." 

General Blunt— "I will do it, sir; I am ready this moment." 

General Herron — "General Blunt knows that he is verv safe in 
making the proposition • his forces are at least twelve miles away 
in full retreat back over the Boston mountnins." 

General Hindman — " Iseevouareawarc of all our movements." 



238 CAMP AND FIELD, 

The rebs did not stop their flight till they were across the Bos- 
ton mountains to Van Buren, on the Arkansas river. 

General Hindman admitted his force to be 28,000, while the 
Union forces engaged did not exceed 7,000, about 3,000 cavalry 
not being brought into action. 

The flag of truce and application for interview, made by Gener- 
al Hindman, was for the purpose of more efl'ectually covering 
their retreat, and during the interview the Twentieth Wisconsin 
and another regiment were moved forward over the battle-field. 
A large number of Enfield rifles and ammunition, with which 
their troops were armed, of English make, were gathered up. 
The loss of the rebs was about 3,000, and 1,000 killed were 
buried on the field by the Union troops. The Union loss in killed 
and wounded was 1,251. 

The work of the artillery in the battle could not be surpassed, 
and it was this superiority that won the fight; they were veter- 
ans, all having been in battle before, either at Pea Ridge, Wilson's 
Creek, or Cross Hollow. Each company- did its full duty. Cap- 
tain D. Murphy, battery F, First Missouri artillery, and Lieuten- 
ant J. Foust, battery E, First Missouri, fired over 1,000 shot and 
shell into the enemy's ranks. Three of the rebel batteries were 
totally disabled. 

The forced march of the Third division of 110 miles, and the 
Second division of 100 miles in three days, was a severe one, and 
on the morning of the seventh, when they had reached Fayette- 
ville, there was not a sound foot in the whole command, and 
many without shoes, and in ragged clothing; but the inspiring 
fife and drum, the firing of cannon and rattle of musketrv drives 
away all thought of personal discomfort, and aroused that hero- 
ism and valor to which the enemy succumbed on this occasion. 

The total casualties in the Army of the Frontier were : 

First Division — General J. F. Blunt. Loss. 

First Brigade, (General F. Solomon 1 

Second Brij^adc, Colonel Weer 13S 

Third Brigade, Colonel W. F. AlcCloud 71 

Second Division — Colonel D. Houston. 

First Brigade, Colonel J. F. Clark 343 

Second Brigade, Colonel W. E. McE. Dye 154. 

Third Division — General F. J. Herron. 

First Brigade, Lieutenant-Colonel H. Bertram 223 

Second Brigade, Colonel W. W. Orme 248 

Escort and unattached 73 

Total ,1,251 



CAMP AND FIELD. 239 

The following circular was printed and scattered by the rebel 
commander to his soldiers prior to the battle at Prairie Grove: 

Headquarters First Corps, Trans-Mississippi Army,\ 
In the Field, December 4, 1862. j 

Soldiers: From the commencement to the end of the battle, 
bear in mind what I now urge upon you : 

First. Never fire because your comrades do, nor because the 
enemy does ; nor because you see the enem_y ; nor for the sake of 
firing rapidly. Always wait until they are certainly within the 
range of your gun, then single out your man, take deliberate aim, 
as low as the knee, and fire. 

Second. When occasion offers, be certain to pick off theenemv's 
officers, especially the mounted ones, and to kill his artillery 
horses. 

Third. Do not shout except when you charge the enemy. As a 
general thing, keep silent, that orders may be heard. Obey the 
orders of your officers, but pay no attention to idle rumors, or 
the words of unauthorized persons. 

Fourth. Do not stop with your wounded comrades; the sur- 
geons and infirmary corps will take care of them ; do you go for- 
ward and avenge them. 

Fifth. Do not break ranks to plunder. If we whip the enemy, 
all he has will be ours; if not, the spoil will be of no benefit to 
us. Plunderers and stragglers will be put to death on the spot. 
File-closers are especially charged with this duty. The cavalry in 
rear will likewise attend to it. 

Remember that the enemy you engage has no feelings of mercy 
or kindness toward you. His ranks are made up of Pin Indians, 
free negroes, Southern tories, Kansas jayhawkers and hired 
Dutch cut-throats. These bloody ruffians have invaded your 
country, stolen and destroyed your property, murdered your 
neighbors, outraged your women, driven your children from their 
homes, and defiled the graves of your kindred. If each man of 
vou will do what I have here urged upon you, we will utterly 
destroy them. We can do this; we must do it; our country 
will be ruined if we fail. A just God will strengthen our arms 
and give us a glorious victory. T. C. Hindman, 

Major-General Commanding. 



240 CAMP AND FIELD. 

All Oiiiet Alonof the Potomac To-Night. 



7^-^i-^r 



<< i| LL quiet along the Potomac to- The moon seems to shine as brightly 

^It night," as when 

U^ Except here and there a stray That night when the love yet uu- 

YoP picket spoken 

Js shot, as he walks on his beat, to and Leaped up to his lips, and when low 

fi-o, murmured vows 

By a rifleman hid in the thicket. Were pledged to be ever unbroken. 

.n,. ^1 . • i. 4. A Then drawing his sleeve roughly over 

'Tis nothing ; a private or two now and ^ » * -^ 

then ^""^ ''^^'' 

■„».„ , i- • +v e ^t +i.„ He dashes off the tears that are 
Vi ill not coinit m the news ot the 

battle; welling, 

■sj . on ' 1 4- 1 f +1 ,. ^, And oathers his gun close up to his 

Not an officer lost, only one oi the men, » & i 

Moaning out all alone the death rat- *^^ 

, , As if to keep down the heart s swell- 
ing. 

" All quiet along the Potomac to-night," ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^^^.^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^ pj^^ 

Where the soldiers lie peaceiully , , 

. tree J 

dreaming, , , , And his footstep is lagging and 
And their tents in the rays oi the clear 

•^ weary, 

autumn moon ,^ , , , ,, i ^i i i 

. , ^ , ^ Yet onward he goes, through the broad 

And the light of the camp-fires are . , f Tol f 

g earning. Towards the shades of the forest so 

dreary. 
There's only the sound of the lone sen- 
try's tread jj^rk ! was it the night wind that 
As he tranips from the rock to the j.^^g^^gg ^i^g leaves? 

louiitam, Was it the moonlight so wondrously 

And thinks of the two on the low flashino? 

trundle-bed j^. looked like a rifle. "Ha, Mary, 

Far away in the cot on the mountain. oood-bv^" 

And his life blood is ebbing and 

His musket falls slack ; his face, dark plashing, 
and grim. 

Grows gentle with memories tender, *'A11 quiet along the Potomac to-night." 

As he mutters a prayer for the chil- No sound save the rush of the river, 

dren asleep. While soft falls the dew on the face of 

And their mother — " may heaven de- the dead, 

fend lier." The picket's off duty forever. 




(irant mi tlu' Field. 



W//M//M//M//^//^//^//^//^//^//^' 




GRANT'S 

■""f 

Quotations from His Speeches and Conversations. 

His Opinions of Generals and Great EventSi 



The Man's Common Sense and Modesty Illustrated. 

(THIRTY-EIGHT PARAGRAPHS.) 



^■iC->5 



^-^-t^. 



During the puhlic careei' of this illustrious man, mid while on his tour around the 
world {such a journey no man of this generation can hope to parallel), he gave utter- 
ance to many expressions that will live for centuries. Here are a few of the promi- 
nent ones. 



ET us have peace. — First inaugu- 
ral address. 



If I can mount a hor.se I can ride 
hirn, and all the attendants can do is to 
keep away. — Private conversation. 



I voted for Buchanan because . ,, p . t i 

T 1 T^ i. r . • AH 01 it. I should like to live all oi 
1 knew Jbremont. — Interview. 

my life over again. There isn't any 

I never had time. — To an officer ask- part of it I should want to leave out. — 

ing if he ever felt fear on the battle f eld. Conversation, hut before he met F. Ward. 



I propose to fight it out on this line 
if it takes all summer. — In the Wilder- 
ness, 1864. 



The young men of the country have 
a peculiar interest in maintaining the 
national honor. — First inaugural 



Labor disgraces no man ; unfortu- 
nately, you occasionally find men dis- 
grace labor. — To Midland International 
Arbitration Union, Birmingham, Eng. 



When wars do come, they fall upon 
the many, the producing class, who are 
the sufferers. — Newcastle speech. 



Although a soldier by profession, I 
have never felt any sort of fondness for 
fall upon war, and I have never advocated it ex- 
cept as a means of peace. — Speech at 
London. 



242 



CAMP AND FIELD 



The battle of Lookout Mountain is 
one of the romances of the war. There 
was no such battle, nor any action 
there worthy to be called a battle. It 
is all poetry. — Conversation. 



No terms other than unconditional and 
immediate surrender can be accepted. 
I propose to move immediately on your 
works. — Afessafje to General Buckner at 
Fort Donelsoji, 1862. 



I long to see a jjeriod of repose in 
our politics that would make it a mat- 
ter of indifference to patriotic men 
which ]iarty is in power. I never re- 
moved men from office because they 
were Democrats. I never thought of 
such a thing. — Conversation. 



Leave the matter of religion to the 
family altar, the church and the private 
scliool, supported entirely by private 
contributions. Keep the church and 
state for ever separate. — Des Moines 
speech, 1875. 



I don't believe in strategy in the 
popular understanding of the term. I 
use it to get up just as close to the 
enemy as practicable with as little loss 
of life as possible. Then, up guards, 
and at 'em. — In conversation. 



I am a soldier, and, as you know, a 
soldier must die. I have been Presi- 
dent, but we know that the term of 
presidency expires; and when it has 
expired he is no more than a dead 
soldier. — 7o the mayor of Liverpool. 



I regard Sheridan as not only one of 
the great soldiers of the war, but one 
of the great soldiers of the world — a 
man fit for the highest commands. No 
better general ever lived than Sheridan. 
— lalk icith Bismarck, 1877. 



Butler as a general was full of enter, 
prise and resources, and was a brave 
man. * * * Butler is a man it is a 
fashion to abuse, but he is a man who 
has done the country great service and 
is worthy of its gratitude. — In a conver- 
sation. 

I appreciate the fact, and am proud 
of it, that the attentions I am receiv- 
ing are intended more for our country 
than for me personally. — Letter from 
London to G. W. Childs, June, 1877. 



I yield to no one in my admiration 
of Thomas. He was one of the finest 
characters of the war. He was slow 
and cautious. We differed about the 
Nashville campaign, but the success of 
his campaign will be his vindication 
against my criticisms. — A conversation. 



It has been my misfortune to be en'- 
gaged in more battles than any other 
general on the other side of the Atlan- 
tic ; but there was never a time during 
my command when I would not have 
chosen some settlement by reason 
rather than the sword. — A conversation. 



The one thing I never want to see 
again is a military parade. When I 
resigned from the army and went to a 
farm I was happy. When the rebel- 
lion came I returned to the service be- 
cause it was a duty. I had no thought 
of rank ; all I did was to try and make 
myself useful. — In conversation loith the 
Duke of Canihridf/e. 



T never held a council of war in my 
life. I heard what men had to say — 
the stream of talk at headquarters — • 
but I made up my own mind, and from 
my written orders my staff got their first 
knowledge of wliat was to be done. No 
living man knew of plans until they were 
matured and decided. — Conversation. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



243 



As a commander of troops, as a man 
capable of doing all that is possible 
with any number of men, there is no 
man living greater than Sheridan. I 
rank him with Napoleon and the great 
captains of history. He had a mag- 
netic quality of swaying men which I 
wish 1 had. — Talk with J. R. Young. 



The most troublesome men in public 
life are those over-righteous people who 
see no motives in other people's actions 
but evil motives ; who believe all public 
life is corrupt and nothing is well done 
unless they do it themselves. — Speaking 
of advocates of reform. 



There are many men who would 
have done better than I did under the 
circumstances in which I found myself. 
If I had never held command; if I had 
fallen, there were 10,000 behind who 
would have followed the contest to tlie 
end and never surrendered the Union. 
— Con versation. 



I believe that my friend Sherman 
could have taken my place as a soldier 
as well as I could, and the same will 
apply to Sheridan. And I believe that 
if our country ever comes into trial 
again, young men will spi-ing up equal 
to the occasion, and if one fails there 
will be another to take his place, just 
as there was if I had failed. — Philadel- 
phia speech, 1877. 



Speaking of the great men I have 
met in Europe, I regard Bismarck and 
Gambetta as the greatest. I saw a 
good deal of Bismarck, and had long 
talks with him. He impresses you as 
a great man. Gambetta also greatly 
impressed me. I was much pleased 
with the republican leaders in France. 
— Conversation. 



Lincoln was iucontestably the great- 
est man I ever knew. What marked 
him was his sincerity, his kindness, his 
clear insight into affairs, his firm will, 
and clear policy. I always found him 
jireeminently a clean-minded man. The 
darkest day of my life was that of 
Lincoln's assassination. — Conversation. 



I do not want to detract from other 
civilizations, but I believe that we 
[English-speaking people] possess the 
highest civilization. There is the 
strongest bond of union between the 
Englisli-speaking people, and that bond 
sliould and will serve to extend the 
greatest good to the greatest number. 
That will always be my delight. — 
Speech at banquet at Newcastle, Eng. 



I always had an aversion to Napoleon 
and the whole family. When I was in 
Denmark, I declined seeing the prince 
imperial. I did not wish to see him. 
The first Emperor had great genius, 
but was one of the most selfish and 
cruel men in history. I see no redeem- 
ing trait in his character. The third 
Napoleon was even worse, the especial 
enemy of America and of liberty. — 
Conversation. 



I never liked service in the army. I 
did not wish to go to West Point. My 
father had to use his authority to make 
me go. I never went into a battle 
willingly or with enthusiasm. I never 
want to command another army. It 
was only after Donelson that I began 
to see how important was the work 
that Providence devolved upon me. T 
did not want to be made lieutenant- 
general. I did not want the presi- 
dency, and have never quite forgiven 
myself for resigning the command of 
the army to accept it. — Conversation. 



244 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



We will not deny to any of those who 
fought against us any privileges under 
the government which we claim for 
ourselves ; on the contrary, we welcome 
all such who come forward in good 
faith to help build up the waste places 
and to perpetuate ovir institutions 
against all enemies, as brothers in full 
interest with us in a common heritage ; 
but we are not prepared to apologize 
for the part we took in the war. — 
Speech at Des Moines, 1875. 



Stonewall Jackson was a courageous, 
energetic, deeply religious man, and a 
fine soldier, but it is questionable 
whether his great reputation is justified 
by his campaigns in Virginia. He had 
very commonplace men to deal with. 
If he had met Sheridan, and had tried 
on him, or on any of our great gener- 
als, the. tactics which he attempted suc- 
cessfully on inferior captains, he would 
have been beaten and destroyed. — A 
conversation. 



My advice to Sunday-schools, no mat- 
ter what their denomination, is: Hold 
fast to the Bible as the sheet-anchor of 
your liberties; write its precepts in 
your hearts, and practice them in your 
lives. To the influence of this book we 
are indebted for all the progress made 
in true civilization, and to this we must 
look as our guide in the future. 
" Righteousness exalteth a nation ; but 
sin is a reproach to any people." — To 
Siinday-sclwol children, June, 1876. 



I believe Porter to be as great an 
admiral as Lord Nelson. He was- 
always ready for every emergency and 
every responsibility. The country has 
never done him the justice that history 
will do him. He has undoubted cour- 
age and genius. * * * Jt, would 
have been a great thing for Porter if 
he had never been able to read and 
write. — Con versatinn . 



I tried hard to be friendly with 
Greeley, and went out of my w'ay to 
court him ; but, somehow, we never be- 
came cordial. He had strange notions 
about the kind of men who should 
take office. He seemed to believe that,, 
when a man was a helpless creature, a 
burden to his friends and drifting be- 
tween the jail and the poorhouse, he 
should have an oflice. — From an inter- 



I am conscientiously, and have been 
from the beginning, an advocate of 
what the society rej^resented by you is 
trying to carry out, and nothing would 
afford me greater happiness than to 
know that, as I believe will be the case, 
at some future day, the nations of the 
earth will agree upon some sort of con- 
gress, which will take cognizance of 
international questions of difficulty, and 
whose decisions will be as binding as 
the decisions of our Supreme Court are 
upon us. It is a dream of mine that 
some such solution may be. — To Arbitra- 
tion Union, Birmingham, 




CAMP AND FIELD. 



245 



THE ADVx\NCK OUARD. 

BY JOH^f HAY. 



^N the dream of the Northern poets, 
ll The brave who in battle die 
^ Fight on in shadowy phalanx 

In tiie field of the upper sky ; 
And as we read the sounding rhyme 

The reverent fancy hears 
The ghostly ring of the viewless swords 

And the clash of the spectral spears. 

We think with imperious questionings 

Of the brothers that we have lost, 
And we strive to track in death's mys- 
tery 

The flight of each valiant ghost. 
The northern myth comes back to us, 

And we feel through our sorrow's 
night 
That those young souls are striving still 

Somewhere for the truth and light. 

It was not their time for rest and sleep ; 

Their hearts beat high and strong ; 
In their fresh veins the blood of youth 

AVas singing its hot, sweet song. 
The open heaven bent over them, 

]\Iid flowers their lithe feet trod ; 
Their lives lay vivid in light, and blest 

By the smiles of women and God. 

Again they come ! Again I hear 
The tread of the goodly band, 

I know that flash of Ellsworth's eye 
And the grasp of his hard, warm 
hand ; 

And Putnam, and Shaw, of the lion heart. 
And an eye like a Boston girl's, 



And I see the light of heaven which 
shone 
On Ulric Dahlgren's curls. 

There is no powder in the gloom of hell 

To quench those spirits' fire, 
There is no charm in the bliss of heaven 

To bid them not as2:)ire ; 
But somewhere in the eternal plan 

That strength, that life survive, 
And like the files on Lookout's crest. 

Above Death's clouds they strive. 

A chosen corps — they are marching on 

In a wider field than ours ; 
Those bright battalions still fulfill 

The scheme of the heavenly power ; 
And high, brave thoughts float down 
to us 

The echoes of that far fight, 
Like the flash of a distant picket's guns 

Through the shades of the severing 
night. 

No fear of them ! In our lower field 

Let us toil with arms luistained. 
That at last we be worthy to stand 
with them 
On the shining heights they've gained. 
We shall meet and greet in closing 
ranks. 
In Time's declining sun. 
When the buglers of God shall sound 
recall, 
And the battle of life be won ! 



,W 



stoNe River. 



THK STRUGGLE BETWEEN ROSECRANS AND BRAGG AT 
MTTRFREESBORO. 



THE EXPERIENCE OF A REGIMENT THAT WAS VERY MUCH 

"IN IT." 



BY W. F. HINMAN, 65th OHIO. 




ipN the last day of October, 1862, General Buell was relieved 
from the command of what was then known as the 



, . Army of the Ohio — a few weeks later reorganized as the 
'Hii^r^^ Army of the Cumberland. Buell's campaigns had not 
been satisfactory to the government at Washington or to the peo- 
ple of the country, who were impatient for decisive results. He 
had organized a splendid army but had failed to accomplish with 
it what was expected. The new commander was General W. S. 
Rosecrans, who, as long as there are any of them left, will be affec- 
tionately remembered by the boys who fought with him at Stone 
River and Chickamauga as "Old Ros3^" After Chickamauga his 
star declined. He was sent to the rear "under a cloud," but his 
soldiers never ceased to regard him with the love that soldiers al- 
ways have for a brave and kind leader. 

The inconclusive battle of Penny ville had been fought and was 
succeeded by the fruitless chase after Bragg to the mountain 
passes of Eastern Kentucky, through which he successfully es- 
caped with his gray-coat/"^^ host into Tennessee. During Novem- 
ber the Union army was concentrated at Nashville and the Con- 
federate army at Alurfreesboro, some thirty miles to the south- 
ward. General Rosecrans was wearing fresh laurels as a fighter, 
won at Tuka and in Corinth. His operations in Mississippi had 
added much to the reputation he had gained in Western Virginia 



CAMP AND FIELD. 247 

General Rosecrans was warmly welcomed by the soldiers. 
They had been campaigning for a year under Buell without any- 
thing visible having been accomplished. They believed that war 
meant fighting. They onh' wanted a leader. Six weeks were 
spent in putting the army in shape for an aggressive move- 
ment, marching orders were issued on Christmas day for the 
following morning. The sick and all surplus baggage were sent 
back to Nashville, arms and accouterments were put in order and 
everv man was supplied with sixty rounds of ammunition. All 
dav and night the soldiers were busy with the work of prepara- 
tion. 

Soon after daylight on December 26, the army in three columns 
— McCook's corps on the right, Thomas' the centre and Crit- 
tenden's the left — drew out on different roads leading toward 
Murfreesboro. The army was alive with patriotism and enthu- 
siasm for its new leader. The soldiers knew that the rebel army 
could only be conquered b}^ fighting. They were willing to face 
the storm of battle, with all its dangers to life and limb. Their 
long, weary marches under Buell had resulted in little except to 
deplete the ranks of the regiments and fill the hospitals with men 
worn with fatigue and exposure. They put their faith in "Old 
Rosev" and the splendid courage which they showed under his 
leadership was never excelled in the history of war. 

The Sixty-fifth Ohio, to which I belonged, was part of the 
Third brigade. First Division, Crittenden's corps. The other or- 
ganizations which composed it were the Sixty-fourth Ohio, Lieu- 
tenant-colonel Mclllvaine; Thirteenth Michigan, Colonel Shoe- 
maker; Fifty-first Indiana, Colonel Streight,; Seventy-third In- 
diana, Colonel Hathaway; Sixth Ohio battery. Captain Bradley. 
The brigade was commanded by Colonel Charles G. Harker of 
the Sixty-fifth Ohio, Lieutenant-colonel Cassil commanding that 
regiment. "Tommy " Wood rode at the head of the division. 

We marched on the direct road to Murfreesboro. Early in the 
day the advance stirred up the enemy's cavalry pickets, and 
there was constant skirmishing. The rattle of musketry and the 
occasional roar of artillery kept the boys pricking up their ears. 
They knew not what moment they would bump against some- 
thing solid and have a fight. Indeed, there were several sharp 
engagements resulting in a considerable number of killed and 
wounded on both sides. When pressed, the Confederates with- 
drew, slowly and stubbornly falling back upon their main posi- 
tion at Murfreesboro. 

Four days were spent in covering the distance to that place. 



248 CAMP AND FIELD. 

There was a dash and a "get there " in the army, from Old Rosey 
down to the high private in the rear rank, that presaged success 
in the mighty grapple soon to occur. On the evening of December 
29, Wood's division which was in the advance of Crittenden's 
corps, reached the bank of Stone River. A mile away, on the 
other side, we could see the spires of Murfreesboro. General 
Rosecrans ordered General Crittenden to occupy the tow^n 
immediately -wath one of his divisions, and Wood was directed 
to cross the river at once. It was a hazardous movement — 
one that would not have been thought of for an instant if the 
real condition of things on the other side had been known. There 
was a large force of the enemy under Breckenridge in an en- 
trenched position on the crest of the ridge half a mile from the 
river. 

But soldiers must obey orders, and, though not without some 
misgivings. Marker's brigade, which was leading, plunged into 
the water, in places hip deep, and went splashing over. The 
twilight was fast deepening and it was nearly dark as w^e hastily 
reformed and moved up the hill through a cornfield in which the 
stalks were yet standing. No braver man than Colonel Harker 
ever drew sword. He realized the extreme danger of the move- 
ment and the jeopardy in which his command was placed, with 
the darkness coming on, an unknown enemy in front and the river 
behind. Inspired by his example, the troops steadily advanced 
until about half way up the acclivity, Avhen there came a furious 
volley of musketry from a blazing line upon the crest. As usual, 
under such conditions, the aim was too high and but few of the 
balls took effect. But they whizzed above our heads and rattled 
among the dry cornstalks in a way that was not at all pleasant. 

By this time General Rosecrans had come in person to the river 
to direct the movement. A hasty view of the situation convinced 
him that the advance was a mistake and he at once ordered the 
troops to be recalled. HascalTs brigade and Bradley's battery 
were already in the river advancing to our sup]Dort. These were 
turned about and a staff officer directed Harker to withdraw and 
re-cross the river. This was successfully accomplished, thanks to 
Colonel Harker's consummate adroitness. We breathedfreelvonce 
more as we stood, with soaked and dripping garments, on the 
safe side of the stream. We moved back a mile to the rear, made 
fires, dried our clothes and prepared our suppers of coffee, hard- 
tack and swine's flesh. 

That night we picketed the river, exchanging occasional shots 
with the other fellows. Tuesda\', thirtieth, was given up to 



CAMP AND FIELD. 249 

perfecting arrangements for the attack upon the enem}-, which 
was to be made at daylight of the thirty-hrst. Arms and ammu- 
nition were carefull\' inspected and put in order. Cartridge-boxes 
were filled, if lacking, and sixty extra rotmds per man were issued 
to be carried on the person. Hospitals were established with all 
the accessories and appliances for the ghastly work before them. 
Haversacks and canteens were replenished in readiness for the 
morrow. 

During these hours of preparation and anxious waiting, the 
men who were to meet the shock of battle for the first time were 
not in their wonted mood. There was an absence of the laugh 
and jest and song thatalwaysenlivened the camp and the march. 
I do not admit that, as the boys used to exjjress it, our "sand " 
was slipping away. We were not afraid of anything in particu- 
lar, but for some reason hilarity seemed out of place. It is de- 
clared upon Scripture authority that there is a time to laugh and 
a time to dance, but that time w^as not then. 

At night we lay upon the ground, with only our blankets be- 
tween us and the sky. I was then just out of my "teens,"' and I 
did not deem it "prejudicial to good order and military disci- 
pline," or inconsistent with my duty as a soldier, if I thought a 
good deal about home and mother and sister, as I lay there look- 
ing up at the twinkling stars. I wondered if I would be killed 
the next day; and then I thought of all the naughty things that 
I had done when a boy, and jiromised that if I got through the 
battle I would thereafter lead a model life. Many times during 
that long, long night, I wondered if I would "weaken " in the 
face of danger and death. Would m\' courage be equal to the de- 
mand upon it ? I wanted to be as brave as anyboch\ I had no 
intention of being otherwise, but when in the awful conflict would 
I be able to keep my toes turned the right way? Of course I 
fuDv decided that I would rather be killed a thousand times than 
be branded a coward; and yet I remember, as though it were 
but yesternight, how my heart thumped against my blouse as 
these thoughts, and many more, went wildly rushing through 
my mind. 

Two hours before dawn company officers passed along the lines 
and in w^hispered tones aroused the men to stand at arms till 
daylight. The air was keen and frosty, and all were chilled to 
the very marrow. A hasty breakfast, without coffee, and the 
movement began, in accordance with the plan ot battle. A strong 
force, of which Wood's division was a part, was ordered to cross 
the river, near the scene of our recent night exploit, and assail 



250 CAMF AND FIELD. 

the Confederate right. I am not attempting to write a historical 
sketch of the battle, and have to do only with our own little 
part in it. Our attack, from the left of Rosecrans' line, was to be 
the initiative, supported at the proper time by an advance of the 
centre (Thomas) and right (McCook). The leading brigade of 
Wood was already in the stream, and ours was upon the brink 
ready to follow, when from the extreme right, two miles away, 
came the appalling roar of battle. Bragg had also decided to 
attack that morning, and his plan was the exact counterpart of 
his antagonist's. Massing a mighty force upon his left, he had 
hurled it with the utmost impetuosity against McCook. Rose- 
crans had not expected this, and he found it necessary immedi- 
ately to change his plans. Wood's division was recalled, and for 
a time lay upon the bank awaiting orders. 

Nearer and nearer came the awful roar of the conflict, as the 
wave swept along the line, enveloping one brigade and division 
after another. With bated breath and straining eyes and ears, 
with every nerve and fibre at its utmost tension, we lay there 
waiting for the summons that would tell us to face the deadly 
blast. Is it any wonder that cheeks blanched, hands trembled, 
and lips quivered? Let no one call it cowardly until he has him- 
self gone, without shrinking, through the fearful ordeal. A life- 
time brings no more crucial test than that of the moments just 
before going into battle. 

Now a staif officer dashes up to Colonel Harker and delivers an 
order. The colonel springs into the saddle. 

" Attention, battalion!" 

How his keen eye flashes as with clear and steady voice he gives 
command ! There is little need for the call to attention, for 
already every man is in line with the colors, and has taken the 
magic touch of elbow^s that is like a talisman to the soldier. 

' ' Forward ! Double-quick ! March ! ' ' 

Ah! the need is urgent, and away we speed, to reinforce the 
riglit, which is crumbling beneath the blow it has received. . Just 
as we start a rebel gunner on the hill across the river, half a 
mile distant, sights his piece, and a shell comes shrieking through 
the air. The aim is all too perfect, for the missile strikes Com- 
pany B of the Sixt\^-fifth Ohio, and at the same instant explodes 
with a terrific sound. The rough fragments fly about doing their 
cruel work. Two men are killed and four or five others lie man- 
gled and bleeding upon the reddening ground. Little wonder 
that for a moment their comrades shudder and stand aghast at 
this first realization of the barbarity of war! 

"Stead}', men ! Close up!" 



CAMP AND FIELD. 251 

It is but for an instant. The ranks are closed and the column 
move on. No time now to care for the wounded or speak a word 
to the dying. There are non-combatants whose duty it is to do 
this; soldiers must press on w'here duty calls. A brave man of 
Company B has a brother sorely wounded, one of the victims of 
that fatal shell. He casts one agonizing look of affection, hesi- 
tates, bends over the sufferer with words of tenderness, and then 
hurries away to his place in the company. 

On and on we go, across the Nashville turnpike and into a field 
where there is a wilder scene of chaos and demoralization than the 
mind can conceive. Picking our way through the confused and 
struggling mass, still at double-quick, panting and breathless, we 
push on, rapidly nearing the line where there is fierce fighting. 
A bullet, well spent by its long flight, with a droning buzz drops 
at our feet. Now there comes another and another, and as we 
enter a wood they fly thick and fast, and they have an uglier 
hiss. Possibly we try to dodge them at first; if we do it is 
because we cannot help it. 

Now we have changed from the column formation and are 
advancing swaftly in line of battle. 

' ' Steady ! Guide centre ! ' ' 

There is no flinching. The rosy hue of cheek and lip has not 
returned, but paleness is not aKvays a S3'mptom of craven fear. 
Death is all around. To show no feeling would be less than human. 

Quickly we relieve a fragment of a regiment which has ex- 
hausted its ammunition. "Fire at will!" is the command, and 
we are in fast and furious. In the wnld intensity of excitement 
fear is forgotten. So intent is every sense of our being that we 
take no note of the flight of time. Scarcely five minutes, it seems, 
but it is probably an hour that we hold the position. Then there 
is a giving way on right and left, and we too, doubly enfiladed, 
are forced to retire. The rebels come on with loud, triumphant 
yells. Soon we come upon a blue-coated line that has been 
formed for our support. We pass over the Fifty-first Illinois 
which, with other regiments, is lying upon the ground with fixed 
bayonets. As we clear the line the men spring to their feet, 
deliver a volley and charge with a mightv shout. The enemy is 
driven back to his old position and ourfightingisoverforthedav. 

The ranks of the Sixty-fifth are sadly thinned. Ver}^ nearly 
half its men are killed or wounded. Three-quarters of Company 
B have been stricken down. Of all the officers of the regiment, 
field, staff and line, but five are untouched. Three of them are 
dead and nine w^ounded. We have longed to see a battle. We 
are more than satisfied. 



Cahawba • Prison, 



ALABANIA. 



A LONG EXPERIENCE OF CRUELTY AND HARDSHIP. 



One Thousand Nine Hundred and Sixty Hungrry, Ragged Skeletons 
Plung-ed into Hot Water, Steam, and Fire. 



H. C. ALDRICH. 



fWAS captured at Athens, Ala., on the 24th of September, 
1864, by Forrest's cavalry, who robbed us of our blankets, 
watches, etc., and then took us to Cahawba, on the Ala- 
bama river, near the center of the state. There they searched 
us again, and confined us in a brick building 200x300 feet, with 
a roof over a part of it, the center being left open. I shall 
never forget the first glimpse I caught of the inmates as we 
marched in. The poor fellows had been there six months; they 
had cut their hair as close as possible in order to keep off the 
vermin, and some of them had nothing on but a pair of 
drawers — and were nearly all as black as a colored person. I 
asked one of them what had become of his clothes and he said 
he had sold them to the guard for something to eat. One of 
our company, finding his brother there, took the blouse from 
his own back and gave it to him. Soon after we got there we 
drew a skillet for every squad of ten men, and this was the 
only dish of any kind that they let us have. We had to make 
wooden spoons and sharpened sticks with which to eat our food. 
We had a small yard outside of the wall for a cook yard, and you 
can imagine what a place that was when we got one hundred 
and eighty fires or smudges started. The smoke was too thick 
to breathe, and one could not stay there long enough to bake his 
pone, but had to be relieved by some of the squad that remained 
inside of the walls. There was a dead-line around, inside of the 
wall, where the guards marched up and down, and we knew that 



CAMP AND FIKLD. 253 

death would be our portion if we got across it. Being a sergeant 
I drew the rations for our squad and I knew just what we had. 
We got for rations, a pint of unsifted meal to a man per day. 
Sometimes, however, we would go two days without any, and 
every second or third day we had one forward quarter of beef 
(with the leg and shoulder taken off) for one hundred men. I 
drew my tenth of that for my squad. Once in ten or twelve 
days we drew a little salt (a spoonful and a half to a man). We 
drew some lard two or three times while I was there, enough 
to grease one or two pones. We had to spread it on with a 
stick. Once I had salt enough left to sprinkle on top of the 
lard. The rest of the time it was rather fresh eating. When 
Ave had meat we put it into the skillet, cooked it a little, and 
then stirred our meal into what we called fresh mush. We 
would sit on the ground around the skillet and each one take a 
spoonful when it came his turn until it was all gone. It did 
not last long. We got some pumpkins twice. I got four small 
ones once for our squad. They were quite sweet, and some of 
the boys ate theirs raw, while others boiled them with meat. 
These were all the rations we had for the six months I was there. 
When any of the prisoners got too noisy they were punished. 
There was a ladder standing against the outside of the prison, 
and when they took a prisoner out for punishment they made 
him go up on the under side of the ladder, put his toes on the 
third or fourth round, and reach up as high as he could with 
his hands and hang there twenty minutes. The guards were 
ordered, in case the Yank fell before that time, to run a bayonet 
through him. I have seen the boys so lame the next day that 
they could hardly walk. I shall long remember the looks of 
the sandy headed boy who stood guard at the door that we 
passed through to go into the cook yard. One of our men had 
been out into the cook yard with a little cup or pail he hap- 
pened to have, and which had a wire bail. He took a little 
stick about a foot long to hang it on while cooking his mush 
over the fire, and after the mush was cooked he started into 
the prison, out of the smoke, to eat it. As he did so the guard 
halted him, and said, ^' You can't go in here with wood." The 
man halted, and looked around, but not knowing that the 
guard referred to the little stick in question, started on, where- 
upon the guard struck him in the back with the bayonet and 
ran it through his body. He fell to the ground and soon 



254 CAM? AND FIELD. 

breathed his last. The guard did not come back the next 
morning to his post, and we learned that they had given him 
a furlough for doing his duty and killing a Yank. 

Colonel Jones had command of the prison. One night, there 
came a heavy rain, and all the prisoners at the lower side 
of the prison had to get up and stand the remainder of the 
night. We were forced to sleep on the ground without blankets 
or anything to keep us out of the mud and wet. One day the 
colonel went through the prison and I saluted him and asked 
if he would let us have some straw to keep us out of the mud. 
He replied that he would send some the next day, and all the 
boys hurrahed in anticipation of the treat. The promise was 
never fulfilled. No farmer would put his hogs in such a pen as 
we were confined in. Many a time the tears ran down our 
cheeks on account of the cruel and unmerciful treatment which 
we received of our captors. On one occasion we had to stand 
nearly three days in the water during a freshet, but we were 
benefited by it in two ways; it drowned the rats out of their 
holes in the walls so that we got a few to eat, and it drowned 
out the graybacks. Some of the rebs got up a petition to let us 
out on an island that was near there. They got over sixty to 
sign it, and handed it to Colonel Jones, but he declared that 
the Yanks should stay in there until they were carried out to be 
buried, and that was not long for some of them. I have seen 
ten in one morning laid out on the sill we cut our meat on. 
The rebs would come in with the stretchers and four or five of 
our boys would help them carry our dead comrades out and 
bury them. 

After waiting long for an exchange, the spring of 1865 
brought us our long delayed relief. But of the many who 
started on the homeward journey, few lived to tell the story. 
Fourteen hundred of those who survived the horrors were 
drowned by the explosion and burning of the steamer Sultana on 
the Mississippi river. Fortunately, I was one of the saved that 
night, but I shall never forget the horrors of the scene. I can 
still hear the pitiful cries of the victims for help. Imagine such 
a calamity if you can — 1,900 poor, hungry, ragged skeletons 
roused from their sleep at two o'clock in the morning by the 
explosion of the boilers, and plunged in hot water, steam, and 
fire! I was in the water six hours and picked up for dead, but 
recovered and am yet alive. 



ASSAULT ON FORT WAGNER. 

Famous Charge of the 54th Mass. (Colored). 



JULY, 1863. 
Capt. L. R. ElVrilvIO. 



ATTERY Wagner" 
^^/j^ was of bold profile, 
^x(cy:> and stretched from 
the sea to Vincent's creek, six 
hundred and thirty feet, its 
front, except thirty-three yards, 
covered by an easterly bend of 
that creek and its marshes, but 
a short distance south of the 
work. It was of irregular 
form, consisting of two salients 
at either extremity of the south- 
ern or land face, connected by 
a curtain, with a sea-face in 
rear of the southeast salient. 
Only an infantry parapet closed 
its rear or northerly face. 
Along its front was a deep 
moat with sluice gates. Its 
armament was three guns bear- 
ing on the sea, ten guns and 
one mortar bearing on the 
land, and some field-pieces. 

Upon that memorable 18th 
of July, 18G3, at 10 a. m., the 
first gun was fired from our 
mortar batteries, and soon the 
cannonade was general. The 



navy joined action at 12.30 p. 
M., and threw in a stream of 
shells. Sumter, Wagner, and 
Gregg replied with vigor the 
whole afternoon. Great clouds 
of smoke hung over the iron- 
clads, batteries, earthwork,, 
and Sumter's massive walls. 
Shells and solid shot crossed 
each other's course; and the 
air was rent with countless ex- 
plosions. By sunset the earth- 
work seemed to be beaten out 
of shape. Every shell that 
struck sent a column of sand 
high in air; great furrows^ 
scarred the slopes, while ava- 
lanches of sand were driven 
into the battery, burying the 
men, or obstructed the en^ 
trances, and half filled the 
ditch. It was the general opin- 
ion that every gun in the work 
had been silenced; that the 
garrison had been driven from 
their shelters and that any sup- 
porting force had been driven 
away. They were mistaken. 



256 CAMP AND FIELD. 

The garrison, consisting of 1,700 men — South Carolinians, 
North Carolinians, and Georgians — under Brigadier-General 
Talliafero, still clung to the work, and despite the terrible fire 
had had but four men killed and fourteen wounded. The after- 
noon passed with ebb and flow of thundering cannon. At the 
summons of General Gillmore his principal officers gathered for 
a momentous conference, and it resulted in the determination 
that Wagner should be assaulted that night. General Truman 
Seymour was to command the assaulting column. Seymour or- 
ganized his force as follows: Strong's brigade of the 6th Conn., 
48th N. Y., 3d N. H., 9th Me., and 7Cth Penn. was to storm the 
earthwork; Putnam's brigade of the 7th N. H., 100th N. Y., 62d 
and 67th Ohio was the support. Brig. -Gen. Thomas G. Steven- 
son's brigade of the 24th Mass., 10th Conn., 97th Penn., and 2d 
S. C. (colored) was the reserve. Our batteries were managed 
by regular and volunteer artillerymen, and the 7th Conn, 
battalion. At 6 p. m. a single regiment marched toward the 
front, along the road, which ran to the west of the sand-hills. 
Over the line fluttered the national flag, and nestling and 
caressing its folds was the great white banner of the Common- 
wealth of Massachusetts. While passing over the low ground 
to the left of our artillery line the long blue column drew from 
James Island several ineffective shots. The only response of the 
54th Mass. (colored) was to double-quick, that it might the sooner 
close with the foe. On every side the killed and wounded were 
falling; still the survivors pressed on, stumbling over the pros- 
trate forms of comrades, or into the pits made by the great 
shells of our navy and batteries. Darkness had gathered, and 
the gloom was more intense from the momentary gleams of can- 
non explosions or the flashes of musketry. It was in rush- 
ing over the short distance separating them from the work and 
through the fierce line of fire from the light guns outside and 
the flanking pieces in the salients that probably the greatest 
loss was sustained. Every cannon flash lit up the scene and 
disclosed the ground strewn with victims. Over the sanguinary 
field, the indomitable Shaw had led the stormers; then down 
into and through the ditch, and up the parapet of the curtain. 
There he stood a moment shouting to his followers, and then 
fell dead. Both of the regimental colors were planted on the 
work, the national fiag carried and maintained there by the 
brave Sergt. William H. Carney of Co. C. 



e^wMP AND FIEI.R, 257 

As the 54tli mounted the parapet, they were met with deter- 
mination by the brave garrison, and for a few moments a hand- 
to-hand struggle went on. Such contests, however, are not 
long protracted, and the result always favors the stronger 
fprce, if equal bravery is exhibited. The weakened ranks of 
the 54th soon gave way to superior numbers, and they fell back 
upon the slopes of the work. Hardly a shot had been fired by 
the 54th up to this time; but now were heard revolvers, and the 
louder reports of musket shots. It w^as seen that the garrison 
was stronger than had been supposed, that the supports had 
failed to take advantage of the fierce attack, and that the 
heroic attempt to take the work at the first rush had failed. 
Still, by encouraging the men to remain, it was hoped help 
would be afforded the other troops as they came up. While 
engaged in tliis, many brave men fell. Capts. Cabot J. Rus- 
sell and William H. Simpkins were killed, and Capt. George 
Pope wounded severely in the shoulder. The enemy supple- 
mented their musketry with hand-grenades or shells, which 
they threw down the slopes into the mass of men in the ditch 
below. 

All of these events occurred in a brief period of time. The 
54th had been repulsed before the arrival of Strong's brigade. 
Those clinging to the bloody slopes and lying in the ditch with 
the dead and wounded, hearing fighting going on to their 
right, began to think of preserving their lives. Some crept 
through the ditch and entered the salient, taking part in the 
close fighting there. Among them were three officers of the 
54th, — Captains Appleton and Jones, and Lieutenant Emerson, 
the two former being wounded. Others made their way singly, 
or in squads, to the sand-hills in the rear. 

INDIVIDUAL DEEDS OF HEROISM. 

Owing to darkness, individual deeds performed that terrible 
night are but little known. Sergeants Simmons of Co. B and 
Carney of Co. C, Corporal Peal of Co. F, and Private Wilson of 
Co. A, were mentioned in the report of the action as worthy of 
especial merit, and subsequently all received the Gillmore 
medal. Sergeant Simmons was wounded and captured; after 
suffering amputation of the arm in Charleston, he died there. 
Sergeant Carney and Private Wilson were wounded. The 
color-guard was almost annihilated, ajid the losses among 



258 C.XMr \NU lu-i.r 

non-oommissionod oHicors woro vorv civat. l.iout. (."trin K. 
Smith was scvoroly wounded, ami ivmainod on iho tiold until 
I ho noxt day. Lieut. J. A. Pratt was also wouiulod. Init orawU^l 
from tho fort during- the night, lying Oimooalod in the marsh 
until rescued two days after, covered with mud and his own 
hlood. 

To retire was as deadly and daugerous a task as to advanee. 
Some of the regiment heUi positions in 1 lie sand-hills, until or- 
dereii to retire hy General Strong. Row Sergeant Carney kept 
the stars and stripes trying on the work until all hope of sueeess 
was gone, and then hrought kis flag away safely at the eost of 
grievous wounds, has heen the snhject of song and story. 

The writer went into the assault as the junior captain oi" the 
54th. and hy the casualties of the tield can\e out in con\mand of 
the regiment. Finding a line of hreastworks entirely unoccu- 
pied, and helieving that the enemy would attempt a sortie, dis- 
positions were made to hold the line. (.Hher men were collected 
as they came in. and Lieut. R. H. L. Jewett and Charles E. 
Tucker of the 54th. hoth slightly wounded, also came to that 
point. That line was held until 1 a. m. of the 10th. when the 
lOth Conn, wa^ sent to relieve us. When Strong's hrigade ad- 
vanced, it was Uni by the t>th Conn. That regiment attacked 
the southeast salient, defended by the olst N. C. but they en- 
tered, supported by the 4Sth X. Y. The ;>d N. H. did not ad- 
vance beyond the mai'sh of Vincent's creek, and Strong's other 
regiments, the Oth ^le. and the "6th Penn.. did not gain a foot- 
hold on the work, so far as is known to the writer. General 
Strong advanced with his men. and exhibited the utn\ost 
bravery. 

General Seymour, perceiving the failure of his leading brig- 
v'uie. ordei-^d Colonel Putnam to advance his regiments, and 
(hat officer led a portion of his :th N. H. into the salient, fol- 
lowed by the G'Ai and 6rth Ohio. His liXnh X. Y. advanced 
near to the works, but in the confusion and darkness poured a 
volley into our own men in the salient, and then retired. 

All these regiments suffered severe losses. Fighting was 
continually going on over the inner parapet, and about the gun 
chambers. There we lost many of the bravest officers and men. 
among them Colonel Putnam and Lieutenant -C^olonel Green, of 
the 4Sth X. Y., who were both killed. Attempts to expel our 
men were successfully resisted for some time, and the position 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



259 



gallantly hoM in tlio lioj^o tliat support would come and win 
the victory which almost lay within their grasp. It was not to 
be, and at last Maj. Lewis Butler of the 67th Ohio, the ranking 
officer, sent the regimental colors out, and gave orders to retire. 
General Stevenson's hrigade advanced toward the work, but it 
was then too late, and his men were withdrawn. 

The Confederates lost 174 killed and wounded. The Federal 
loss was 1,517, which included over 100 officers, and embraced 
General Seymour, wounded; General Strong, mortally wounded; 
and Colonel Putnam, killed; of the ten regimental command- 
ers. Colonel Shaw was killed; Col. J. L. Chatfield of the Gth 
Conn., mortally and five others severely wounded. Such casu- 
alties stamp the sanguinary character of the fighting, and 
mark tlie assault as one of the fiercest struggles of the war, 
considering the numbers engaged. 

The o4th Mass. suffered more severely than any other regi- 
ment. Col. R. G. Shaw, Capt. William H. Simpkins, and Capt. 
Cabot J. Russell killed; and Lieut.-Col. E. N. Hallowell, Cap- 
tains Appleton, Jones, Pope, Willard, Adjutant James, Lieu- 
tenants Smith, Homans, Jewett, Tucker, and Pratt, wounded. 
Of enlisted men, the report gives 20 killed, 102 missing, and 
125 wounded. Of the missing, some sixty men (about twenty 
of whom were wounded) were captured, and the remaining 
forty-two of those reported missing were prol>ably killed. 
Those captured were held in the hands of the enemy in Charles- 
ton jail and other prison-pens until the spring of 18G5, wheu 
the few survivors were released. 



■^-^ 






THREE TIMES. 



FIRST f;UN AT SHILOH. 



npIIE 1st N. Y. Cavalry claim to have mUE first f,nin of the battle of Shhoh 

l)eeii the first to enter the war, the was probably fired by Robinson's 

first to lose a man, and the first to (rebel) battery, of Gladden's Brigade 



lose an officer. 



of Hardee's Corps. 







ISriTH CUSTER, 

At * Yellow * TaYern * and * Id * the * Raid » Around ^^ Richmond. 



L. E. TRIPP, ist Sergeant 5th Michigan. 





■'3\T Todd's Tavern General Custer led his brigade with 
drawn sabers, driving the rebel line and taking their 
position, A battery in our right front, behind a knoll 
and near the woods, made terrible havoc Avith our 
horses. General Custer ordered our regiment 
(the 5th Mich. Cavalry) to the right, into the 
woods, where we dismounted and charged the 
battery. They succeeded in drawing the guns 
away, but left twenty-one dead and wounded; 
among them, I think, the captain of the bat- 
tery. After two days we started towards the rear wondering 
"What next?" Along in the afternoon we were cautioned 
against loud talking, and our coffee-pots had to be adjusted sa 
that they would not rattle. About this time we were passing 
around in rear of Lee's army, when, between sundown and 
dark, we struck Beaver Dam Station, gobbling up, among the 
rest, about four hundred of our men who had been taken 
prisoners. Yes, they were a happy lot of men and were glad 
to see the cavalry. They went to work and armed themselves 
from the captured arms that had been sent back there, ana 
took up the line of march towards Richmond with us. Just 
what regiment or brigade opened the fight at Yellow Tavern 
I do not know, our brigade being in the rear of the column. I 
well recollect the column being halted and our standing in the 
road, while some fighting was going on in front, and that some 
shells came over our heads rather too close for comfort. Finally 
our brigade was ordered to the front, where we found a large 



CAMP AND FIELD. ' 261 

field with a rail fence running east and west through the mid- 
dle, with woods mostly on three sides. We supposed that some 
of our troops had been driven out of this field. We found 
several of Sharpe's carbine cartridges lying on fence rails and 
concluded they were left there when our men fell back. Our 
regiment and the 0th Mich, were moved down on the north side 
of the field in the woods, where we were formed and dis- 
mounted for a charge across the field. I well remember that 
when we were about to leap the fence into the field (for w^e 
were under fire at the time) the colonel said: " Now, boys, keep 
a good line, for General Sheridan is watching us." (General 
Sheridan and quite a body of troops were on an elevation to 
our right, overlooking the field.) I well remember that my 
tent-mate and friend (Daniel F. Miller) remarked: "Now, 
Tripp, let's keep together." We had not advanced over twenty 
rods, I think, before a murderous cross-fire was opened upon us 
out of the woods on our left and rear. Words cannot picture 
the scene that followed out there in that level field, without 
any chance of cover. We were trying to return the fire, shoot- 
ing in three different directions. Poor Miller received his death 
wound while on one knee shooting in the direction that the left 
of our line had come from. Gur brave and noble Custer rode 
up on his horse into that field among us — always cool — with the 
words: "Lie down, men — lie down. We'll fix them! I have 
sent two regiments around on the flank." His words of cheer 
and sympathy to the wounded were deeply appreciated. All 
of this was of short duration, but it seemed like an age then. 
Right there in that field I think General Custer decided on tak- 
ing that battery. Custer's brigade (the 1st, 5th, 6th, and 7th 
Mich. Cavalry) were now all engaged; but the 1st Vt. had for- 
merly belonged to our brigade, and to it Custer went for help. 
The story went at the time, that General Custer went over 
and told the 1st Vt, what he wanted, and it of course vol- 
unteered to go, but the commanding general objected to have 
General Custer fighting his troops and then Custer appealed to 
General Sheridan, who told him to take any regiment that was 
willing to go with him. The 1st Vt, went, and there was an 
advance all along the line. The battery was taken. General 
Stuart received a death wound while endeavoring to rally his 
men. Although on the next day a part of our forces were 
among the defenses of Richmond, (where we were once before 



262 CAMP AND FIELD. 

on the Kilpatrick raid,) I don't think we were in force enough 
to capture Richmond. [Comrade R. says he could never con- 
ceive why we did not.] Now, I don't think I should have writ- 
ten this, but the comrade seems to have the impression that the 
first troops that crossed went over on the corduroy bridge. 
In the early part of the day Custer's brigade was ordered 
down toward the railroad bridge (which the rebels had not de- 
stroyed), our regiment in the advance. We met the regulars 
coming from there — some of them wounded. They said we 
would "find some work down there." This bridge was covered 
by the rebel battery and line of works spoken of. We dis- 
mounted and picked our way along under cover until we 
reached the stream and railroad bridge. Then came the tug of 
war, as the saying is. To get across the bridge, a few of us 
nearest the bridge resolved while the others kept up the fire 
(with the Spencers) to try and cross it. So, a few at a time, 
we crossed our whole regiment and worked off to the left, in 
the swamp, and were skirmishing there for hours while the 
corduroy bridge was being built. We had worked around on 
their flank so far that when the charge was made we could 
shoot lengthwise of their line of works. How they succeeded 
in getting that battery away I don't understand, but it was a 
race for dear life — they occasionally turning about and return- 
ing our fire. They had established a hospital at a house about 
a half mile in the rear of their works, showing that they must 
have had some wounded. We, of course, felt rejoiced when 
we had broken through the trap in which they boasted of hav- 
ing us. Their papers stated that the city officials were coming 
out to look us over: but we couldn't wait. I feel sad when I 
think of our brave comrades who laid down their lives in these 
engagements, and there were many who wore the gray equally 
brave, though in a mistaken cause. 




CAMP AND FIELD. 263 

CHICK AMAUGA. 

[Written in commemoration of the de-perate cliarge of the 1st Ky. Brigade, by Db. J. M. 
Lydings, in Chattanooga Prison, 18C4.] 



■'Jl 



mli^ADLY is flowing the red tide of 'Tis death without shrift to the das- 

Ij C battle, tardly foenian, 

^^ Dark Chickamauga, thy sliad- And heaven have pity on sweetheart 

ows among, find w'ife. 

And true to thy legends,* with fierce i + v ^ . 

iiuc v^ J c On, on, like a wave that engulfs, do they 
roar and rattle, 

press 

The shadows of Death o'er thy bosom ^J^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^,^^ ^^^^.^^^ ^^^^ 

^'■^^^"^S- dead; 

See, up yon hillside a dark line is sweep- Nor stop they till night— blessed night 

i,io- for the foe — 

Breasting the thick storm of grape- Her mantle of i)eace o'er the fallen 

shot and shell, hath spread. 

ShoutiiK'- like demons o'er abatis leap- ^, , ,,, . , i 4. i • u „ 

» The battle is o er ; but where is thy 

"'^' chief 

Sons of Kentucky, ye charge them ^, t. ' i r i ^^1 1 4^1 a 

. , ,, . The Bayard of battle, dauntless and 

rieht well ! ,0 

° brave i 

Up to the cannon's mouth, on to the There cold and uncofRned lies chival- 

rampart, rous Helm, 

Shoulder to shoulder they gallantly Where Glory's mailed hand hath 

press ; found him a grave. 

Steel into steel flashing fierce in the sun- wi.o..^ 

° Where Hewitt and Daniel.'' Where 

-„ , . ^ ' ^ ,.,. 1 Ti • 4-, .,, trumpet-voiced Graves? 

Pulsing out hie-drops like wine from .,,.,, • ^.i *- ^ 

, , '' And where the brave men that they 

the press. n ., 1 j g 

gallantly led .'' 

Think they of far homes once sunny There voiceless forever and dreamless 

and bright, they lie 

Now blackened and dreary, swept by On the field they have won, immortal 

the flame — though dead. 

Fair sisters and sweethearts — God pity _ 

the s-fo-ht ! ^^°^' °"' Chickamauga, in silence flow 

Wandering outcasts, with heads "^'^ ,, , n ,, 

bowed in shame! Among the dun shadows that fall 

on thy breast ; 

Hark to the answer! That shout of These comrades in battle, aweary of 

defiance strife, 

Rings out like a knell above the fierce Have halted them here by thy waters 

strife, to rest. 



* Chickamauga means death, and its banks were said to be a favorite Indian battle-ground. 



BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA. 
AccoQDt of General Steedman's Gallantry on tbe Bloody Field, 

SEPTEMBER 20, 1863. 

J. W. DOVE, Captain Company G, I 15th Illinois V. I. 




jINCE the death of Gen. James B. Steedman, I have 
been a good deal interested in the various accounts 
published in regard to the general on the field of 
Chickamauga, the ever memorable 20th day of Septem- 
ber, 1863. Taking all the circumstances into consideration, I 
think it the bloodiest and hardest contested battle of the war, 
for the Union. General Steedman commanded a division of 
Granger's reserve corps of the Army of the Cumberland Gen. 
Walter C. Whitaker commanded a brigade of Steedman's di- 
vision, known as the Iron Brigade, of which he was very 
proud, as well he might be. It never turned its back to the 
enemy. It was composed of the 40th Ohio, 84th Ind.. It6th and 
115th 111. I led Co. G of the 115th 111. into the fight that day, 
and led out what was left of it at night. Thirty-six of us went 
in on the right of Pap Thomas; we left nineteen killed and 
wounded on the field. Out of 368 men, as I remember, that 
went into the fight of the 115th 111., 172 were killed or wounded, 
Lieutenant-Colonel Kinsman being one. A braver soldier 
never faced an enemy. It has been said that the flag that 
General Steedman took was that of a regiment that was waver- 
ing, which I propose to dispute to the last ditch, and even after 
we get on the other side. It will be remembered that the re- 
serve corps, on the 18th of September, left its camps at Ross- 
ville, Ga., and moved out to what we understood to be the left 
of the army, not far from Ringgold, Ga., where it had a brush 
with the enemy. On the 19th we fought the rebs at McAffee 



CAMP AND FIELD. 265 

Church. Early the morning of the 20th, not finding the enemy, 
we marched around to what we then understood to be the 
right-center of the line, passing just in rear of General Thomas's 
line of battle. We had to run the gantlet of quite a number 
of rebel batteries, which made it hot work, and we lost some 
of our boys. As we passed what I thought was the extreme 
right of Thomas's line, we filed out of an old field and halted 
just in the edge of a heavy piece of woods covering a high 
ridge. We had double-quicked for a long distance, and were 
pretty well blown. We were hardly given time to adjust our 
lines when I saw General Steedman riding towards us. He 
passed the left of the regiment and on to the center. 

The regiment was standing at parade rest in perfect line. 
We had not been in this position to exceed one minute, when 
the general came up and asked the color-sergeant for the regi- 
mental flag; he took the flag, shook out the folds in a dramatic 
manner; rode a few paces to the front (the color-bearer by his 
side) and lifting the flag high in air, rose high in his stirrups, 
and gave the command, ''Attention! Forward, double-quick, 
march!" and that in the loudest voice I ever heard before or 
since. At least, so it sounded to me and I think to others; for 
it appeared to lift the entire brigade bodily. It was one of the 
grandest dramatic effects that I ever witnessed, enough to 
make a hero of the most groveling coward. 

I did not comprehend, nor do I think any of us did at the 
time, the situation and circumstances that called out such an 
effort on the part of our gallant commander, but he did, and we 
were not long in finding out, for up the hill we went as one 
man, intent only to get there. Just as the line reached the 
crest of the hill, we comprehended, or could have done so, if 
there had been time to think, for we met the victorious legions 
of Longstreet coming up the hill on the other side. We met 
face to face, but no army could have stopped our advance after 
so grand a send off, and the enemy reeled, fell back, rallied 
again, and again was forced to retreat. The fighting here was 
terrific the remainder of the day. We held the ridge in spite 
of Longstreet's veterans till night closed in on the bloody scene. 
General Steedman's front was understood to be the key to the 
battle field, and. looking back over the scenes of that day and 
the heroic conduct of Steedman, I can see that he well under- 
stood the importance of his position, and no man could have 



266 CAMP AND FIELD. 

filled it better than he did. No troops that ever lived did nobler 
work than his division that day. 

General Steedman exposed his life continually. He was just 
where most needed, and how he escaped with life the God of 
battles alone knows. After the sun had set, our regiment was 
deployed much as a skirmish line, the reason being that we 
were out of ammunition, and had been for some time using what 
could be gathered from the cartridge-boxes of the dead and 
wounded. The boys would find a box of cartridges, and then 
would hunt a gun of the same caliber as the cartridge. The 
115th 111. was armed with the old Remington muskets (sixty-nine 
caliber), while most of the army were armed with fifty-eight cal- 
iber. The result was that we were fighting Indian fashion — 
without regard to tactics or alignment. At this juncture General 
Steedman rode up and ordered us forward to repel a rebel ad- 
vance. The cry went up, " We are out of ammunition! " but he 
dashed to the front, ordered us to fix bayonets and charge 
double-quick! Royally the boys obeyed that order. The bayo- 
nets were fixed quickly, and forward we went with characteristic 
hurrahs and cleared our front once more, which made it possi- 
ble for the army to make an orderly retreat to Rossville and 
Chattanooga that night. General Whitaker lost all but one of 
his staff that day, and was wounded himself. Col. J. H. Moore 
had his horse shot in three different places, yet that noble 
animal kept its feet and carried its rider back to Rossville before 
it died. Lieutenant-Colonel Kinsman was killed in the first 
onslaught of the regiment. His horse escaped to the enemy, 
but was recaptured at the battle of Missionary Ridge by our 
boys. 

The 23d Mich, served with Whitaker's brigade that day. The 
casualties among officers were unusually large — six killed and 
forty-six wounded. The brigade went into action 2,674 strong, 
and came out with 1,089, losing 985 in killed, wounded, and 
missing. 





Naval Contests. 



Life on the Monitor. 



A Seaman's Story of the Fight with the Merrimac. 



LIVELY EXPERIENCES INSIDE THE "FAMOUS CHEESE-BOX ON A RAFT." 



How THE Great Disaster off Cape Hatteras OccurreDi 

SAMUEL LEWIS (alias PETEK TEUSKITT). 



•ti 



'^ 



This man figured in the naval reports of the United States as 
Peter Truskitt, one of the heroic hand who stood in the turret of 
the Monitor when she drove the Merrimac out of Hampton 
Roads, and he is the sailor who ivas wounded by the concussion 
of a rebel shell just before the termination of the engagement. 
The name Truskitt ivas an cdias. 



OgIE sailors generally 



^.-5^Z% ]V^ shipped under some 
^^^^^Q%^^ other name on ac- 
count of danger of running 
foul of bad captains or bad 
ships, when we might have to 
decamp at the first port, and 
were not particular about leav- 
ing any clews behind. That 
was why I called myself Trus- 
kitt. I ain't much of a scholar, 
and can't put it as nicely as they 
do in the Century, but I think 
I can tell a few facts about the 
Merrimac fight that the mai^^a- 



zines missed. I and my part- 
ner, Joe Crown, were in Bom- 
bay when the war broke out. 
We had both served in the 
navy before, and were anxious 
to get into it again. I had 
medals for service on both 
British and Russian men-of- 
war, and the news that there 
was fighting over the water 
sort of fired men up. Well, 
the upshot of it was that Joe 
and I shipped for New York, 
and when we got there en- 
listed. We went on board the 



268 CAMP AND FIELD, 

receiving ship North Carolina, and had followed the dull daily- 
routine for a week or so when Ericsson's Monitor, about which 
something had been whispered among the men, was completed, 
and a call was made for volunteers to go and man her. We 
understood that she was bound for Hampton Roads, and Joe 
and I concluded to go. So we stepped out, and were put with 
a lot of others on board the transport ship Knickerbocker and 
sent to Washington. The Monitor was then, I believe, lying in 
the Washington navy yard. 

"Next day we went on board. She was a little bit the 
strangest craft I had ever seen; nothing but a few inches of 
deck above water line, her big, round tower in the center, and 
the pilot house at the end. The monitors that were afterward 
built had the pilot house above the turret to prevent it being 
accidentally shot away by the vessel's own guns, but in that one 
it was a big bomb-proof structure, several feet in height, right 
above the deck. We had confidence in her, though, from the 
start, for the little ship looked S(3mehow like she meant busi- 
ness, and it didn't take us long to learn the ropes. Joe was 
made gunner's mate of the first gun and I was loader. The 
crew were exactly sixty strong, with the pilot. 

"We started at once for Fortress Monroe. From the first a 
good deal of trouble was experienced through leakage, but the 
story that it was difficult to keep the craft afloat is not true. 
Some water came in at the anchor well and some around 
where the turret joined the deck. The last we plugged up 
with swabs and got through all right, arriving near dusk. 
The situation at Hampton Roads was about this: The 
Minnesota was aground, the Cumberland sunk, and the Con- 
gress on fire. While we were there the Congress blew up — one 
of the grandest and most terrible sights I ever witnessed. Our 
first duty was to protect the Minnesota, and we steamed up along- 
side. The sailors were then taking out their hammocks and 
dunnage, and all preparations were in progress to abandon the 
ship. By the next morning this was done, and nobody was left 
on board. 

" Our first sight of the Merrimac was around the Rip-Raps. She 
had been described to us and there was no mistaking her long, 
slanting, rakish outlines. She evidently regarded the grounded 
vessel as her certain prey, and I don't think in fact that we 
were seen at first from on board. We were so small and had so 



CAMF AND FIKLD. 269 

little above the water-line when we steamed out I guess she 
took us for some kind of a water tank. You can see surprise 
in a ship just the same as you can see it in a human being, and 
there was surprise all over the Merrimac. She fired a shot 
across us, but Captain Worden, our commander, said, 'Wait 
till you get close, boys, and then let her have it.' In a moment 
the ball had opened. Our guns were so low down that it was 
practically point-blank firing, and we made every shot as far 
as possible tell. 

''At first the Merrimac directed her fire at the turret, and was 
evidently trying hard to put a shell in. That was impossible, 
however, for two reasons. The port-holes were protected by 
heavy iron pendulums, that fell of their own weight over the 
openings as soon as the muzzles of the guns were taken out, 
and when the guns were loaded they were put out at the far 
si4e, away from the Merrimac, and in that way there was no 
aperture for her to get a shot into. The din inside the turret 
was something terrific. The noise of every solid ball that hit 
fell upon our ears with a crash that deafened us. About that 
time an unexpected danger developed. The plates of the tur- 
ret were fastened on with iron bolts and screw-heads on the 
inside. These screw-heads began to fly off from the concussion 
of the shots. Several of the men were badly bruised by them, 
and had anybody been hit in the face or eyes they would have 
been done for. Luckily this did not take place, but that ex- 
perience caused them to build a metal sheath or plating over 
the screw-heads in monitors afterward. 

" The immense volume of smoke and narrow apertures to see 
through made maneuvering very difficult, and at times we nad 
hard work telling where the enemy was. Twice she tried to 
ram us, but w^e got out of the way. We looked for an attack 
by a boarding party, and had a supply of hand grenades to 
throw out of the turret if one succeeded in gaining the deck. 
Our men were confident and hopeful all through. Once Lieu- 
tenant Green called out, ' They are going to board us!' but in- 
stead of scaring anybody it seemed to please the crew. ' Let 
'em come!' sings out one, 'we will amuse them some!' After 
the fight had been in progress for a couple of hours I was 
knocked senseless by a shot. 

" The gun had just been pulled in and the pendulum dropped 
when a ball struck it a few inches from the head. The shock 



270 CAMP AND FIELD, 

was so fearful that I dropped over like a dead man, and the next 
thing I knew I was in the cabin with the doctor bathing my 
head. I soon recovered enough to go up again. Meantime the 
Merrimac had concentrated her fire upon the pilot-house, giving 
up the turret as a bad job, and I think made an effort or two to 
get close and board us. It was in the pilot-house that Captain 
Worden received the wound that blinded him for some time 
afterward, and Lieutenant Green took command. I do not 
think that a boarding party could have been successful, even 
had they reached the deck, because they couldn't have pene- 
trated the interior. There was but one hatch, and that had 
been closed and barred on the inside before the engage- 
ment. The tower was solid, and the only way to get below 
from it was to have the hatch in its floor on a line with the 
hatch in the deck. 

"The Merrimac turned tail after a little over four hours of 
fighting. The enthusiasm of our men was at fever heat. 

" ' Let's follow her,' said Joe Crown. 

'"You don't know what you're taking about,' says Lieuten- 
ant Green; ' we would strike a torpedo, sure.' 

" 'I guess we can go where she can,' answered Crown. 

"That was the feeling of all the men. They were disap- 
Dointed because they were not allowed to give chase, for 
they noticed that the Merrimac rode low in tlie water, and 
knew that she had been hit below the line and was filling. 

"That was the close of the fight. Next day we were the 
heroes of the hour. The presidential party came down with a 
lot of ladies, and they cheered and toasted us to the echo. The 
troops about the fortress all felt so proud over the victory that 
they started a contribution of $1 each for the crew of the Moni- 
tor. The sum they raised was sent to Washington, but for 
some reason Congress objected and it was never distributed. 
That made both the crew who manned the Monitor and the 
soldiers who contributed the fund very bitter, and they remem- 
ber it to this day, 

"That was not the end of my experience with the Monitor by 
any means. I staid right with her and never left her until she 
was lost off Hatteras. After the fall of Norfolk we were ordered 
to Wilmington, N. C. The steamer Rhode Island had us in tow, 
cind I don't believe the true story of the disaster that terminated 
the trip has ever found its way into print. The Monitor was 



CAMP AND FIELD. 271 

not a seagoing craft. She was adapted to smooth water, but 
her model was not calculated to withstand a storm. Off Hat- 
teras we encountered heavy weather. The waves ran very high, 
and the ship took so much water that it was only with extreme 
difficulty that she could be kept afloat. Finally the hawser 
either parted or was cut — I don't think that point has ever been 
entirely settled — and realizing that we were sinking we sent up 
a rocket of distress. I afterward learned that all was excite- 
ment on board the Rhode Island, and the usual delay in lower- 
ing the boats was prolonged. Every minute was that much 
nearer certain death to us, and when our signals were not re- 
sponded to, the word was passed among the men that it was 
the intention to abandon us to our fate. This made them des- 
perate, and the sailors insisted that we fire upon the vessel. 
Before they could do so, however, we saw the boats coming, 
but by that time the Monitor was so near gone and the sea so 
high that sixteen were lost before they could be taken in. I 
was on the companion ladder, just behind my messmate, Jack 
O'Brien, and we were both dodging the third waves, which are 
always the biggest. One had just passed, when he sprang for 
the boat, and missed it. I heard him shriek, 'Oh, God!' and 
then he was swept away forever. I caught the boat upon th? 
gunwale, and managed to pull myself in, but it was a close 
call. The ship doctor, who sat in the stern, had the end of his 
hand jammed off by striking it against the pilot-house plates. 
As we pulled away I saw in the darkness some black forms - 
knew to be men clinging to the top of the turret. They were 
drowned, poor fellows, when a moment later the Monitor gave 
one last pitch and went down like a shot. The boats reached 
the Rhode Island all right, and there we got food and clothes, 
for the fire had been out and we had had nothing to eat for a 
day. That was my experience with the Monitor — beginning 
with a battle and ending with a shipwreck." 





An Incident of Peaoh Tree Greet 

jN the twentieth of July, 1864, was fought the battle of 
Peach Tree Creek. It was one of the fierce engage- 
ments brought on when Sherman closed in upon 
Atlanta. Newton's division of the Fourth corps re- 
ceived a desperate assault of the enemy. It lay behind a barri- 
cade of logs and rails, and was able to withstand the shock. The 
enemy was repulsed with severe loss, and fell back into the woods. 
Immediately, details of Union soldiers were sent out to bring in 
the rebel wounded, who lay thickly upon the. field. A wounded 
boy is no longer an enemy. 

Among those brought in \v^as a boy not above sixteen, belong- 
ing to a Georgia regiment. A bullet had crashed through his 
thigh. Pale and suffering, he was laid in the shade of a treeupo.i 
a blanket. It was some little time before a surgeon could be 
found, but meanwhile we gave him water from our canteens and 
food from our haversacks. Evidently he had not expected kind 
treatment at the hands of "Yankees." 

"They told us," he said, "that you would kill us if you took 
us prisoners," and tears trickled down his cheeks as he looked 
into our faces. 

A surgeon came and examined his wound. " Is it bad, doctor ? " 
asked the sufferer. "I hope not, my boy," was the answer, but it 
was plam that the surgeon knew there'was little hope. The bul- 
let had crushed the thigh bone, and there was small chance for him. 

"If mother could only be here," he said, in a sad, feeble tone, 
and the tears flowed afresh, while our own eyes moistened in 
sympathy. 

Faint from loss of blood, he sank into unconsciousness. He was 
revived by stimulants, and again he spoke of "Mother" in an 
agonizing way that touched the very heartstringj? of those who 
stood around him. We did what'we could— little enough at 
best— to minister to his comfort. Then the bugles sounded and 
we marched away. We never heard of the poor boy again. It is 
more than likely that his young life went out in a few hours, per- 
haps a day or two, and that he was buried in an imknown grave, 
as were thousands upon thousands of others during that long 
and bloody conflict. "War is cruelt3% and you cannot refine it," 
General Sherman said in his letter to the mavor of Atlanta. 



re:minisce:nce:s of 

FRANK E. AIORAN, CAPTAIN 73ki) NEW YORK. 



«o|os5il 



BELIEVE it is true that every soldier who served through 
the war for the Union has had an experienee that essenti- 
10) ally differs from that of the nearest comrade of his com- 
?b*ej pany, and constitutes an independent and interesting 
history by itself. 

It is to this diversity of experience, as well as the varied light 
in which events are observed and described, that war history 
owes its most attractive charm; as the vari-colored warpin the 
loom unites in graceful figures and flowers, imparting strength as 
well as beauty to the finished fabric. 

The cluster of reminiscences which I purpose to narrate con- 
trast so sharply with each other that their grouping seems 
incongruous, and renders it perplexing to choose for them an apt 
and covering title. 

All, how^ever, can be fairly catalogued as curious, all are true, 
and none, I feel assured, will fail to kindle and hold the in- 
terest of the reader. 

The breaking out of the Rebellion found me, a smooth-faced and 
somewhat delicate stripling, at the age of 17, residing in the 
city of New Orleans, whither I had drifted in a boy's whimsical 
but ever-hopeful search of a fortune, in 1860. 

It was my unhappy lot to be caught one night in April, 1861, 
in a frenzied crowd of howling men in the rotunda or large bar- 
room of the St. Charles Hotel, where I had gone for my employer 
to deliver an important verbal message to a gentleman from 
Mississippi, a guest at the house, but who was absent when I 
called. On one side of this room, which was level with St. 



274 CAMP AND FIELD 

Charles street, to which a wide hallway led, was an elevated 
platform, from which on that afternoon I had seen a number of 
slaves sold, among them a remarkably handsome mulatto girl, 
whose age I judged to be about my own. 

Although it was not the first time I had witnesssd a slave sale 
from the same platform, it was, I believe, the first instance in 
which the iniquitous institution of human slavery was so impres- 
sively presented to my understanding in all its suggestive and 
repelling features, for heretofore the sales I had seen were gener- 
ally confined to males and sturdy and stoic fieldhands ; and as I 
looked upon the neatly attired and graceful girl.in whoselustrous 
eyes a discerning observer might see the muteconsciousnessof her 
wrongs and a solemn accusation against her oppressors, and as 
I faced the gaping bystanders and complaisant bidders and 
hstened to the coarse jests and profanity of rum-scented ruffians 
wearing broad-brimmed hats surmounting mattresses of hair that 
had seemingly long been neglected alike by scissors and comb, I 
felt that I could not endure to witness the consummation of the 
iniquity, and turned from the crowd with a bitter curse upon the 
baneful "institution," which, had it been audible, would have 
probably secured me a prompt suspension by the neck to a con- 
venient lamp-post, or a costume of tar with the regulation feather 
einbroidery. 

On the evening of that day I again went to the St. Charles on 
the same errand, and recognizing the gentleman of whom I was in 
search, engaged in a game of billiards with a friend, I took a seat 
near the table to await an opportunity to deliver to him my 
message. 

Seated beside me on the right was a well-dressed, elderly and 
strikingly-handsome man, whom I now remembered having seen 
at the slave sale a few hours earlier. He showed that the recogni- 
tion was mutual by a pleasant smile, and responded to the bow 
I felt impelled to give him, by a graceful incHnation of the head. , 

There was a genuine air of good breeding, grace and dignity 
about the man that instantly and strongly attracted me, and I 
certainly would have yielded to my inclination to address him in 
the respectful freedom which his years and kindly manner seemed 
to encourage, and my own youth appeared to warrant, had I not 
found him engaged at that moment in making an entry in what I 
took to be a diary or small account-book. 

Suddenly, there was a great noise from without, and I stepped 
into the hallway just in time to be swept bodily into the bar- 
room bv a yelling mob that poured in from St. Charles street. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 275 

The occasion of the excitement was soon disclosed. A man 
mounted the platform from which a few hours before I had seen 
the slave girl face her pitiless audience, and in a stentorian voice, 
of which he was manifestly proud, read a telegram from Charles- 
ton announcing that Beauregard's guns had opened fire on 
Sumter. 

My whole heart was in the North and for the Union, and the 
exultant shouts of the boasting and half-drunken bullies that 
jostled me helplessly about as 1 struggled to reach the street door, 
set every drop of blood boiling in my veins, and I felt every un- 
avoidable touch as an aggravated personal affront. In that 
hour — nay, in that very moment — I resolved to leave the South 
and enlist as a Union soldier. I burned to carry this design into 
immediate excution, but an honorable engagement with a kind 
employer induced me, on cooler reflection, to defer my departure 
until June. 

The crowd was now increasing at each minute, and the sound 
of flying corks and breaking glasses mingled with the pandemo- 
nium, while half-a-dozen drunken orators were on platform and 
chairs tearing the North into metaphorical "smithereens." 

I made a temporary escape from the jam bv being forced back 
into the billiard-room, which wasnow deserted. Cues, balls, hats 
and coats were strewn on the tables. Indeed, the only person I 
saw in the room with me now was the gentleman I had left 
writing. He had evidently not left the room during the excite- 
ment, but of course had been appraised of its cause. As I entered, 
he rose, and replacing his pencil and book in his pocket, he walked 
briskly by me, bowing as he passed, and disappeared in the street 
throughthecrowd, that had now been reinforced by a band, that set 
the mob screaming afresh with the then new and idolized "Dixie." 

As I felt that I could no longer endure the sight and sound of 
the rebel carousal, I determined to escape, and started again 
toward the street. 

As I was leaving the room, I noticed a small leaf of paper lying 
near the chair just vacated by the gentleman who had been 
wanting, and thinking it might be memoranda of importance, 
which I might 3'et restore to its owner, I picked it up, and, penciled 
in a clear, neat hand, read these words: 

"I witnessed to-day the sale of the mulatto girl Lucy, to a man 
from Mississippi, for $1,500. 

" What a spectacle of shame in a free Republic. Heaven helpand 
deliver her. A telegram just read confirms to-day's ominous 
rumors. The first gun has been fired on our fiag by the traitors 



276 CAMP AND FIELD. 

in Charleston harbor. That gun is the sentence of Secession — - 
and God grant of slaver^', too — in this country. Now for home.'* 

My friend then was a Union man. I can scarcely sav the dis- 
covery surprised me, surprising as it was to find one in New 
Orleans just then, but the assurance gave me a glow of pleasure, 
and my heart warmed to him, so when I reached the street I 
made an eager search in the crowd, but he had vanished like a 
spirit. 

I concealed the memoranda, fully conscious of its compromising 
character in the then fierce temper of the community toward 
])ersons holding the sentiments expressed in the stranger's hand- 
writing. I kept it in the lining of my hat, and on many succeed- 
ing days went to the St. Charles and eagerly scanned the faces I 
met in the crowd, hoping to find my li^nion friend, whose confi- 
dence and friendship I felt I could now fairly claim bv returning 
the talisman I possessed. My eagerness to do so may excite 
the surprise of most persons in these peaceful days, but mv feelings 
and conduct will be perfectly intelligible to those of Union senti- 
ments who found themselves as comparative strangers caught in 
the whirlwind of Secession that swept the South in the Winter 
and Spring of '61. 

Lincoln's election was no sooner announced than the National 
flag disappeared from public sight, and outrages shameful and 
lawless were perpetrated not only unchecked, but with popular 
applause upon those who were known Unionists. 

The branch store of Singer's Sewing Machine Company was 
completely gutted, the furniture and property flung into the 
street, the sign torn down and the windows smashed, all be- 
cause a press dispatch one day announced that the emplovees of 
I. M. Singer & Co., New York, had presented a National flag to 
the Seventh Regiment, that famous command, the darling of the 
Gothamites, having signaled its patriotism by a prompt tender 
of its service to the Government immediately after the firing on 
Sumter. 

This outrage, a mild type of many others daily occurring in every 
Southern city, was committed on Canal street, the chief thorough- 
fare and promenade, and but a few steps from where the statue 
of Henry Clay looks toward the Mississippi. 

No attempt whatever was made to investigate, much less to 
punish villainies of the kind, and this one is only cited to show 
the malevolence of the Secessionists toward the North at the 
time, and will rationallv account for the easrerness of the lover of 
the Union to seek communion with kindred spirits. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 277 

But I failed to find the friend I sought, and at last destroyed 
the scrap, which indeed I would have gladly perserved, but have 
cherished the niemor}' of a Union man whose penciled words re- 
call a momentous event, and recorded a patriot's prophecv. 

Nor have I failed to derive pleasure from the hope — during the, 
generation that has since Lipsed— that the prettv slave girl lived 
to see her race delivered and herself to walk in peace and security 
under a flag that patriots have borne on a thousand battlefields 
since I saw her on the auction-block; a flag , though scarred by 
shot and shell, no longer — thank God — bearsaround its forty-four 
stars the blighting stain of human slavery. 

The inclination is strong upon me to recite the many stirring 
events that transpired in New Orleans between Lincoln's election 
and my departure for the North on the first of June, 1861, such as 
the passage of Jefferson Davis through the citv on his way to be 
inaugurated £it Montgomer\' ; the ovation to General Twiggs — 
then a w^hite-haired man — after his perfidy in Texas; the scenes 
around the bulletins that announced the "invasion of Virginia;" 
the killing of the "Yankee circus tumbler, Ellsworth," by the 
"patriot " Jackson, at the Marshall House, Alexandria; the arm- 
ing and drilling of troops day and night in the streets; the grand- 
iloquent speeches and dazzling predictions of orators in halls and 
public squares; how our boatloads of Union refugees for an ex- 
citing week ran the gauntlet of curses, insults, and even brutal 
blows from drunken ruffians at every landing from New Orleans 
to St. Louis; our wild delight at the first sight of the Union flag 
at Cairo, which was then held, I think, by the Twenty-first Illi- 
nois, whose Colonel was a tanner's clerkfrom Galena. That clerk 
I had often met in my boyhood in Detroit, coming and going 
from his modest home on Fort street, and a square from my own 
home. The countr\^ and mankind now venerate his memory — the 
peerless commander and patriot, Ulysses S. Grant. 

I arrived in New York from New Orleans about the middle of 
June, going by river to St. Louis, thence b}^ rail to Cincinnati, by 
boat to Pittsburg, by rail to Philadelphia, and finished the trip 
by steamboat to New York, thus completing the longest river 
journey I had ever made. 

Within a week thereafter 1 w^as enrolled as a private in Captain 
William McCauley's company (H) of the Second Fire Zouaves 
(Seventy-third New York), being the Fourth Regiment of General 
Daniel E. Sickles' renowned "Excelsior" Brigade, which formed 
a part of Joe Hooker's Division, Army of the Potomac, and w^as 
mustered into the service at Staten Island, July 21, 1861, that 



278 CAMP AND FIELD. 

hot and fateful Sunday that witnessed the disaster to our army 
at Bull Run. 

On the day our regiment left for the seat of war, and while 
waiting at the landing for the boat, there was witnessed the 
affecting and familiar scenes of farewell between the soldiers and 
the dear ones they were leaving in anxiet}^ and tears. 

For my own part I looked upon these parting caresses wnth a 
feeling of mingled sadness and envy, such as I had never felt so 
keenly as now, for my parents had died in Detroit while I was 
still a small boy. I was, in fact, a total stranger as yet, even to 
the members of my own companj^ except to one faithful friend,. 
"Billy" Lackey, who had shared in many of my wanderings, and 
whose acquaintance I had formed while I was a bell-boy at the 
Biddle House, Detroit. My predecessor there on the office-stool 
was the tragedian Lawrence Barrett, who had resigned his po- 
sition as bell-boy to assume the really lucrative but more en- 
chanting duty of carrying out dead Romans at Macfarland's 
Theater, just opposite the Biddle, the proprietors of which to 
this day point with pride to the modest throne once occupied by 
"Larry" and myself. But pardon for this digression. 

Two brothers and two sisters, whom I had not seen for years,, 
were widely scattered in Michigan, Illinois and Minnesota. I had 
myself drifted to New York some years before the war — the per- 
fect type of a rolling stone. 

The same insatiable passion for travel and thirst for change so 
common to boys deprived of their protectors and adrift from the 
beneficent and wholesome restraints of parental authority, had 
taken me by a stormy sea voyage, in which I narrowly escaped 
shipwreck, the year before, to New Orleans, from whence the 
breaking out of the war and a consuming desire to be a Union 
soldier had now recalled me. 

I found the great city aflame w^ith gay bunting and floating 
banners, the crowd sprinkled with officers and soldiers in be witch- 
ing uniforms, and the scjuares and streets resounding with 
martial music — sights and sounds that so enchanted me that 
verily as I marched clown Broadway in my bright C^hasseur uni- 
form to the sweet, gallant music of the band, I felt full}' assured 
that I was at once an object of admiration to the country and of 
tender and personal solicitude to everv pretty girl that waved a 
handkerchief from a window or tossed a rose from her bosom. 

Indeed, my amazement was not that so manv were going forth 
to save the Union, but that any j-oung man who had ever heard 



CAMP AND FIELD. 279 

of George Washington, Bunker Hill, or Mexico, could exist and 
endure lite at home without wearing a mask. 

But we were now at the pier; the music had ceased, and I was 
about to take part in a scene for which no meditation or rehear- 
sal had prepared me. 

The soldiers broke ranks to take their farewell of relatives and 
friends, who now flocked about them until it seemed that every 
one except myself was the center of a weeping female group. 

Never in all m^' wide w^anderings amid the world's wilderness 
of strangers did the sense of my own utter loneliness sink with so 
deep and keen a pain into my heart as at this moment; and as 
weepingsisters and sweethearts pressed their thoughtful little gifts 
into the hands of the soldiers and gave them their tender Godspeed 
and kisses, and as mothers with streaming eyes pressed their boys 
to their throbbing hearts with "God bless and bring vou back to 
me, my darling son !" my memory flew to the one adored, sleeping 
far away, who might have been there too, to give me her farewell 
kiss and blessing. I w^alked apart from the crowd to shed the 
secret tears of the motherless boy, wdiich even the new-born pride 
of the soldier was powerless to stem. 

But the quick eye of a noble woman detected my ill-concealed 
emotion and withdrawal from the crowd, and with a woman's 
divine and unerring instinct swiftly read the cause. I felt a touch 
on my arm, and, turning, saw a sergeant of my com panj^ (George 
Reamer), who, pointing to a waiting carriage about thirty vards 
distant, said a lady in it wished to speak wnth me. The unex- 
pected call instantly recalled me to myself, but mvstified some- 
what, inasmuch as I was not much accustomed to social greet- 
ings from carriages, except at occasional funerals. Mv suspicions 
that the sergeant was indulging in an ill-timed practical joke 
vanished when I saw one of the ladies beckon to me with her 
hand. So I promptly advanced, and, presenting myself at the 
carriage, respectfully doffed my cap and bowed to the occupants. 

The eldest of the two, a lady in middle life, richly and tastefullv 
attired, bent forward, and extending me her hand, apologized, 
with the sweetest of smiles, for the libertv she had assumed, as a 
stranger, in summoning me, and proceeded to explain that she 
felt the deepest interest in the cause of the Union, and a corre- 
sponding concern in the welfare of the brave voung fellows who 
were leaving those they loved and by whom thev were loved, to 
face danger and death for the countrv. 

With rare kindness and delicacy she added that, as I appeared 
to be the youngest of the soldiers present, and apparentlv alone, 



280 CAMP AND FIELD. 

she bad taken a mother's privilege to speak with me, andthatthe 
same feehng now prompted her to inquire if I were going to the 
war with the knowledge and consent of my jjarents. In short, 
would I tell her who I was? 

To encourage candor and remove any embarrassment, she 
handed me her card, which bore the name of Mrs. Hall, and resi- 
dence in a fashionable street up town, and at the same time in- 
troduced me to the exceedingly pretty girl beside her as her niece. 

As may be surmised, I was not disposed to withhold a confi- 
dence so graciously invited by a noble lady whose gentle words 
and manner at once bespoke her refinement and rare kindness of 
heart, and with unreserved frankness I told her the story of my 
early orphanage in the West, the resulting separation of the 
children, of my varied employments and wide wanderings up to 
the present time, and concluded by telling her that, as I had not 
a relative within a thousand miles, and but a few acquaintances 
in the great city to which I had but just returned from the South, 
after ajourney of fifteen hundred miles, there was no one to know, 
still less to care, should I meet a soldier's death. 

That my story had touched her kind heart deeply was manifest- 
ed in the close attention she gave to every word of the narrative, 
and by the tears that glistened in her fine eyes at its close. She 
carefully entered my name, company and regiment upon a leaf of 
her pocket tablet, and taking my hand, looked steadfastly at me, 
and with an earnestness that strangely stirred me and that has 
left an ineffaceable imprint on my memor}', she spoke these words : 
"Frank, you are going aw^ay to the war, and I fear that it is to 
be a more cruel and also a much longer struggle than is gen- 
erally believed ; but our cause is a righteous one, the Government 
has boundless resources, and eventuallv must triumph. Thou- 
sands of noble lives must be lost and bitter privations endured. 
You will see a hard time, and many of these poor fellows are now 
taking their last leave on earth of those thev love. Yet I feel as- 
sured you will be spared and returned. I shall keep track of you ; 
and now mark this : You say you are a private, and as yet a 
stranger in the regiment. I want you to come home the Captain 
of your company, and I firmly believe you will." 

The last bell was now ringing, the soldiers tore themselves from 
their weeping relatives and sprang on board ; in a few hurried 
words I expressed my fervent gratitude to my new-found friend 
for her kindly interest, assured her that I would treasure and try 
to deserve words that were most welcome to me then if ever. 
She pressed my hand cordially, and her eyes filled with tears as 



CAMP AND FIEI.b. 281 

she said; "Good-by, dear bo}^; God bless and protect you." 

I bowed low, said good-by, and walked briskly on board the 
steamboat, the gang-plank was drawn in, the paddle-wheels 
lashed the water into a foain, the crowded boat swept free from 
her moorings, the soldiers swarmed to the upper deck, and while 
the band struck up "The girl I left behind me," the boys sent up 
a lusty cheer, swung their caps and shouted a last good-by to 
their friends on the receding pier, which was now a snow-storm 
of waving handkerchiefs, and the Seventy-third was away for 
the war ! 

The service rendered by that gallant regiment for the four 
years that followed, with their flood of mighty events, rightlv 
entitles it to a shining page in the history of the restored Union. 
Its colors, borne by stalwart Harry Bell, were the first over 
the rebel works at Yorktown, and my own company captured 
the first rebel flag in the Peninsular campaign, a trophy still pos- 
sessed by the surviving veterans. It fought with conspicuous 
valor under McClellan from Williamsburg to Malvern Hill ; with 
Pope at Bristow Station and the second Bull Run; with Burnside 
at Fredericksburg, and Hooker at Chancellorsville. 

Immediately in its front on that memorable Saturday night, 
May 2, 1863, fell Stonewall Jackson ; it faced the furious assaults 
of Barksdale's Mississippians in front and bore unflinchingly the 
murderous flank fire of Longstreet's artiller}^ and infantry in the 
bloody Peach Orchard at Gettysburg, and its men bore their 
gallant corps commander. Sickles, from the field when he fell. 

In all the battles that left their crimson track from the Wilder- 
ness to Appomattox, their torn colors were ever in the van of 
victor}', and when peace dawned at last over a restored Union, a 
handful of bronzed and scarred veterans were all that returned of 
the thousand bright young volunteers who waved good-bv to 
mothers, sisters and sweethearts on the pier at New York in the 
Mid-summer of '61 . 

Every survivor brought home the remembrance of a thrilling- 
experience, and fortune had marked me from the first for adven- 
tures and cruel experiences beyond the usual pale of a soldier's 
life. A mere passing glimpse only of that experience can be em- 
braced in this narrative, and is touched upon only because it is 
inseparably woven with the incidents that form the central and 
special subjects 6f interest that inspired me to preserve them in 
this memoir as they are imprinted in my memor\'. 

In this record it is enough to say that I was four times wound- 
ed in battle, and by the explosion of a rebel shell at Gettysburg 



282 CAMP AND FIELD. 

the sight of one of im- eyes was totally destroyed. Strange to 
say, the organ has not been in the least mutilated, and its blind- 
ness eannot be detected now except by the powerful aid of the 
oculist's glass. 

I received this injury and a wound of the ankle besides at the 
critical moment of the second day's battle, when our regiment, 
posted in front of Joseph Sherfy's house, near the Emmitsburg 
road, with Randolph's battery, the Sixty-eighth and One Hundred 
and Fourteenth Pennsylvania, for our nearest neighbors, was or- 
dered to retire by General Humphreys toward Hancock's line, 
and under a terrific artillery and infantry fire from front and flank 
that struck down hundreds of men in the space of a few minutes. 

This was the fateful moment for me — when every man needed 
his head as well as his feet — that one of Longstreet's shells burst 
in my face, killed ahorse beside me, and killed and wounded a 
dozen men. It was as if I had been struck by lightning, and I fell 
as unconscious as if my head had been taken from my shoulders 
by the blade of the guillotine. The horse falling w^ith his neck 
over my face, I must have soon smothered had I not been rescued 
by a lieutenant of Barksdale's Mississippi Brigade, which passed 
over me a few minutes before its leader was killed. 

The lieutenant, when he dragged me from under the horse, 
supposed me dead, but was attracted by my new sword-belt, 
which he could not detach without releasing me. He subsequent- 
ly showed his kindness by assisting me to the shade of the old 
cherry-trees at the side of the Sherfv house. Airs. Sherfv still 
shows visitors a Union shell buried almost from sight in one of 
those old trees, that had been fired from Cemetery Hill, and 
jealously protects it from relic-pirates by a wiresereen, assisted at 
night by a belligerent and loyal bulldog. I was for a time quite 
dazed, and could scarcely realize that I was in the enemv's hands; 
nor did I know, until I tried to walk unassisted through Sherfy's 
gate, that I was also wounded in the aukle, and that my shoe 
was full of blood. 

The appalling sight of the dead and wounded of both sides from 
the position of the First Massachusetts, to the right of the Sherfy 
house, to and through that bloody Peach Orchard ! Would that 
I could banish the recollection of the cruel sight ! 

On that day I met with the fate which of all others I had dread- 
ed and more than once escaped by a hair in Virginia — I was taken 
prisoner! I felt my misfortune the more keenly for having met it 
in our own territory — Pennsylvania. That I had reason to 
dread such a misfortune, the fearful experiences of the year and 



CAMP AND FIELD. 283 

eight months that followed dreadfully proved. One of my broth- 
ers, \'Ounger than myself, a private in the Eighty-ninth Illinois, 
sleeps \vith the 14-, 000 Union martyrs of Anderson ville; while my 
eldest brother, of the Fifth Michigan, carried to his grave the 
marks of his cruel sufterings in the death-pens at Salisbury and 
Florence. 

1 spent ten months within the walls of Libby prison, and ten 
more in the prisons at Danville, Macon, Charleston, Columbia, 
and Charlotte. During this long captivity I made five escapes, 
but was each time retaken. I was one of the 109 Union officers 
who, with Colonel Thomas E. Rose, escaped through the tunnel 
at Libby prison on the night of February, 9, ISG^, and was re- 
taken near Charlottsville, with Lieutenants William L. Watson 
and Charles H. Morgan, of the Twenty-first Wisconsin. The 
former still lives in New York, and the latter, who has served sev- 
eral terms since in Congress from Alissouri, still lives at Lamar, in 
that State. I was savagely punished by confinement in a narrow^, 
dark and freezing dungeon under the sidewalk at Libby, until I 
was on the verge of death. But youth and hope sustained me 
through it all, and I returned to the Union lines a month before 
Lee's surrender. 

I saw the war in all its most terrible phases for those four 
memorable years, and ^rom both sides of the lines; shared in the 
joy of the restored Union, and in the happv, glorious return. The 
fortunes of war which, indeed, had brought me back home with 
four wounds and the far deeper scars of a fearful captivity, and 
with a captain's bars upon my shoulders, had still showed me 
little tenderness, and finally it denied me one long-coveted wish : 
I never saw or heard again of the kind and noble lad v whose gen- 
tle and sympathetic words and mothcrlv blessing had ever been 
with me on the w^eary march and lonelv picket ; had inspired me 
with a soldier's ambition in camp, nerved me in battle, brighten- 
ed even the cold, dark dungeon of Libbv, and whose confident 
prediction was so singularly fulfilled. 

The incidents that I am about to relate are within my personal 
and positive knowledge, and the actors I shall introduce were 
conspicuous figures in, and known to everr survivor of, my regi- 
ment. 

My company (H) Avas the first in line, and Company C, Cap- 
tain John Downey, was the second. As a consequence, the ac- 
quaintance formed between such near neighbors was both 
intimate and agreeable. Among the bovs of C were two young 
brothers, Thomas and George Dennen, who were twins. I had 



284- CAMP AND FIELD, 

often noted with pleasant interest the close resemblance between 
twins while they remained children, but in no other instance did I 
ever see this resemblance so perfectly preserved to maturity; nor 
was the likeness merely facial, but in form, height, weight, walk, 
gesture, carriage, tone of voice, articulation, and even peculiari- 
ties of laugh. 

Nature, in their make, seemed to have perpetrated a practical 
joke, for all features conspired to make them perfect counterparts 
of each other, and a source of endless and ludicrous perplexity to 
their friends, who could never feel satisfied in their minds that 
thev were not imparting secrets to Tom that were strictly in- 
tended for George. Finally, Tom was made a lieutenant, and his 
twin orderly-sergeant. 

The colonel, "Mickey Burns," ahvays declared that he had 
asked the governor of New York for a commission for Tom, not 
because he was a better or braver soldier than his twin, but be- 
cause the interests of the service — in fact, the peace of the regi- 
ment — demanded that he should have a distinguishing mark, so 

that he "could tell the d things apart." This mark, however, 

did not alwavs serve the intended purpose as was shown" in the 
instance I am going to relate. 

One night down on the Rappahannock, George (the sergeant) 
entered his brother's tent, and found him sleeping soundly, after 
a hard tour of duty that had engaged him many miles from camp 
for a week, and for which task he had been specially chosen by the 
colonel, who happened to be absent from his headquarters when 
he returned. George had not accompanied his brother on this 
expedition, but a conference with him immediately after he came 
back to camp, soon acquainted him with all the material facts 
relating to the enterprise. It was now several hours alter dark, 
and George finding his tired twin soundly sleeping, gave up the 
idea that brought him to the tent for one of greater brilliancy 
that suddenly dawned upon him, and which was all the more 
fascinating because the execution of it was attended by no or- 
dinary risk to himself- 

Hastily dofiing his sergeant's jacket and cap, he put on tho^e 
of the lieutenant, leaving his own exactly in their place, and 
buckling his sword upon him he retired, carefully securing the 
flies of the tent, and a few minutes later boldly presented himself 
at Colonel Burns' headquarters. 

Now, the colonel was keenly interested in the expedition on 
which he had sent his subordinate, and as he was anxious to 
hear his report, he gave orders to the sentinel in front of his tent 



CAMP AND FIKLD. 285 

that no one else should be allowed to disturb him that night. 

The light in the tent was dim, and made somewhat dimmer by 
a judicious shift by the "lieutenant" of the single burning candle 
into the tent in rear, and communicating with the one in which 
the two now took seats. 

The "lieutenant" was w^armh^ greeted b}^ the colonel, for no 
man in the arm^-- had a higher repute for solid hospitality than the 
ever-lamented and genial Mickey Burns, w^ho, it is safe to say, 
was as well known in the Army of the Potomac as its then com- 
mander. 

A fresh canteen was produced, sampled, and pronounced good 
by the "tired lieutenant," w-ho now philosophically concluded 
that as he was in for it anyhow, he "might as well be hung for a 
sheep as a lamb," lit a cigar, settled himself comfortably, and 
proceeded to fill himself up with "commissary" and the colonel 
with picturesque lies, that so greatly delighted the latter wnth the 
prowess of his subaltern, that at last a second canteen and more 
cigars w^ere produced. 

The colonel was no singer, but this did not prevent him from 
singing on this happy occasion, and the bo^'s still lingering around 
the company camp-fires were entertained, if not charmed, by a 
vigorous duet of voices roaring out from headquarters : 

" 0, we'll all drink stone blind, 
Johnny fill up the bowl." 

Indeed, it was plain that the colonel and his guest were having 
a time of the monkey and parrot order, w^hich might have been 
prolonged until reveille had not a very natural though unpro- 
vided for circumstance transpired. 

The twin, whom we left sleeping in his tent, awoke, and as the 
darkness prevented him from discovering the change of cap and 
jacket, he put on those he found without the remotest suspicion. 
Although it was now nearly midnight, he determined to call on 
the colonel, in whose tent he still saw a light, and as he ap- 
proached headquarters he was astounded to hear a voice, which 
he instantly recognized as that of his twin, roaring out in a 
demoralized strain the camp song, that the trumpet voice of Don 
Glacken, of Company I, made a special favorite on the march: 

"0, I belonu^ to the Fire Zouaves; 0, don't you think I'd oughter, 
0, I'm going down to Washington to fight for Abraham's daughter," 

while the colonel yelled his approval of the singer and song with, 
" Good boy, Tom ! Whoop her up again. Pass the canteen ! " 



286 CAMP AND FIELD. 

The real Tom now discovered that he had sergeant's stripes on 
his arms, and the sentinel let him approach near enough to recon- 
noiter. One peep ^Yithin fully revealed to him the situation, and 
he retreated in the darkness to enjoy his laughter undisturbed. 
He had tigured in too many pranks with his twin to be surprised 
bv this one, and he now determined to take part in the last act 
of this comedy. He hunted up Captains Downey, Shine, LeFort 
and several other officers always eager for a lark, and in a few 
Avords explained to them the trick of his twin, and invited the 
party to accompany him to headquarters to witness its exposure 
and enjoy the big joke on Colonel Burns. 

The proposition was received with enthusiasm, and the partv 
proceeded to headcpiarters. The colonel was summoned, and 
amid a peal of laughter Tom revealed the fraud. 

Burns, though thunderstruck for a solemn moment, and visibly 
fuddled with his revel, still retained his ever-ready wit, and as he 
was but too appreciative of a good practical joke himself, he re- 
solved that this one should not pass without sharing the honors 
with another victim. 

Working himself up into a well-simjilated rage, he poured out 
a territic tirade that startled the party, and indignantly de- 
nounced the "sergeant " before him as an impudent villain, boldlv 
seeking to insult and injure his brother, who was a superior offi- 
cer; and instantly summoning the otncer of the guard, with a 
detail of men, the paralyzed and innocent lieutenant, in spite of 
his vociferous protests that he was the lieutenant and not the 
sergeant, was ignominiously hustled away to the guard-house, 
wherehespcntthenightamongthe common batch of campoffend- 
ers, while the fraudulent "lieutenant," now a physical wreck from 
his prolonged wrestle with the colonel's canteen, was given a 
parting toast by Burns, in which the roaring delegation joined 
with perfidious enthusiasm, after which he was escorted bv all 
hands to Tom's tent, where he slept the sleep of the just on the 
snug couch and in the stolen uniform of his outraged twin. 

To recite all the pranks which a marvelous resemblance enabled 
these brothers to play upon each other and their friends, would 
present a mirth-provoking comedy that would bear no mean 
comparison to the ludicrous perplexities of Shakespeare's two 
Dromios in the bard's "Comedy of Errors." * 

A melancholy interest attaches to this particular camp-plav of 
the Dennen brothers, for fate decreed that it should be the last. 
A month from then poor Tom lay among the slain of our regi- 
ment at Chancellorsville, and within a few vards of where Stone- 



CAMT AND FIELD. 287 

wall Jackson fell, immediately in our front, and his twin was 
weeping over him with a grief that made the stoutest of the sol- 
diers weep with him. 

The bereaved brother and myself were promoted to second 
lieutenants immediately after the battle, and we thenceforth be- 
came messmates, shared the same tent and blanket, and were in- 
separable and affectionate friends. But the soldier's pride of 
promotion, the colonel's generous approval, and thetenderest as- 
surances of a comrade's sympathy were powerless to rouse the 
heart-broken brother from the deep melancholy into which the 
death of his twin had sunk his once bright spirits. He shunned 
his old associates, nor sought to mingle socialh' with the new 
companions which his advancement as an officer offered him, and 
would sit in his tent for hours at a time with Tom's photograph 
in his hands and tears glistening in his eyes. 

To me alone he gave his company and confidence, and spoke 
ever of Tom with touching affection, for his name was woven 
with ever}^ tender memory' of his life. When I greeted him on his 
first appearance in the uniform of an officer, he faintW smiled, 
and said: "I shall not wear it long; I shall follow Tom, and be 
killed in the next battle." I soon saw that this conviction so 
completely dominated his mind, that any effort to dissuade him 
from yielding to a morbid fancy, induced by a severe bereavement, 
tended only to irritate him, and on the long march in June from 
the Rappahannock into Pennsjdvania after Lee. I seldom ventured 
a comment on his prediction of impending death; yet no dav 
passed in that campaign that he did not revert to that subject, 
bewail his loss, and repeat his prediction with unchanging ear- 
nestness. 

An hour before midnight, July 1, 1863, our regiment, after a 
severe, hot and hungrj^ march from Emmittsburg, Md., went into 
bivouac in the low^ swale between the Round Tops and Cemeter}' 
Hill at Gettysburg. The First and Eleventh corps at bav around 
the slopes of that providential hill, had on that afternoon, after 
a bloody encounter and heroic struggle of many murderous hours 
with most of the rebel army, under Hill and Ewell, abandoned 
the town to the exulting rebels. The lamented leader of the First 
corps, Reynolds, lay dead near by. The Third corps, under 
Sickles, and the Fifth, under S\'kes, had reached the ground, and 
the magnificent Sixth, wnth its idolized "Uncle John," leading, 
was coming at a run, and by one of the most remarkable marches 
ever made during the civil war, and daylight found the two great 



288 CAMP AND FIEI.B, 

armies stripped for what every private knew^ was to be the 
migfhtiest and most momentous battle of the war. 

For a generation the painter, historian and poet have exerted 
their genius in vain to give the country a true picture and satis- 
fying record of the three days' struggle that has made this field 
immortal. This imperfect reminiscence necessitates that I should 
present at least a passing glimpse of the second day's battle, for 
it is inseparable from my theme. 

The day was far spent and the sun was low when the action 
began in Longstreet's desperate effort to seize the coveted and 
commanding Round Top on Meade's left, a design which Sickles 
had even before noon warned the commanding general was cer- 
tainly meditated by Lee, and which, fortunately, was in the last 
supreme moment frustrated b}^ the unerring judgment and swift 
action of Warren, and the heroic defense of Vincent and Hazlett, 
who died together in the fierce struggle for possession of the for- 
ever-famous hill. 

George Dennen and I were beside each other that day constant- 
ly, as we had been during all the severe long march from the 
Rappahannock. We were far ahead of our supply trains and 
without a cracker, but our loyal friend, " Sheep}^ " White, who 
had charge of our mule, had followed us pluckily to the field, and 
gave us all the refreshments he had, poor fellow, a cup of coffee 
and two cigars. 

For this fidelity our mess granted "Sheepy," who was nearly 
in tears, not only a vote of thanks, but a full pardon for the loss 
of our mule, a sad-eyed but hardened and malevolent villain, for 
whom "Sheepy " had regularly stolen rations on the march, even 
when horses of good repute had gone without, and who crowned 
a long series of crimes by ungratefully deserting the very first 
night he found himself on the soil of a free state, and with all our 
baggage. Nothing, in fact, could attach the ingrate to his home 
but a trace-chain. 

Now that the two armies were facing each other, and the great 
battle imminent, I closely observed George Dennen, to note what 
effect the prospect had ttpon him, now that his gloomy prediction 
v^as to be put to the crucial test. If the nearness of the battle 
wrought any visible change in his demeanor, it \vas observable 
only in a greater vivacity of spirits than I had seen him exhibit 
on any day since the death of his brother, whose name for the 
first time seemed absent in his conversation. What his secret 
thoughts were must be left to conjecture. 

For several hours before the fight opened, our regiment lay 



CAMP AND FIELD. 289 

in a little orchard of apple-trees around Smith's house, en the 
Emmittsburg road, while the sharpshooters m front of the house 
exchanged shots with those of the enemy concealed at the border 
of the wood south and west of our position. 

It was during this lull that my friend drew a sealed letter from 
his pocket that I knew him to have written several days before 
while we were bivouacked on the skirt of Frederick, and which, 
for some unexplained reason,«he refused to entrust to the mail, 
which was then accessible to him. 

This letter he now handed to me, and I was not in the least 
surprised to see that it bore the name and address of one whose 
name he had often mentioned in the confidence of friendship. He 
now for the first time that day reverted to the subject of his 
brother's death at Chancellorsville, to the now impending battle, 
and his own fate, which he declared was foreordained, but which 
he said he did not fear. He exacted from me then one special and 
final favor as his comrade and friend, which was that, if it were 
in my power at all, in the near future, to deliver in person the let- 
ter which he now gave into my hands ; and if this were found im- 
possible, I was empowered and charged to destroy it. Strangely 
enough, it did not seem to occur to him that my chances of being 
able to gratify this wish, at least for a long time, even if I sur- 
vived the battle, were somewhat remote. But I did not express 
this thought, and gave my promise, and in the utmost good faith. 
With this the subject was dropped, much to my relief, and as we 
were now reminded that we still had the cigars given us bv 
"Sheepy," we lounged under an apple-tree, out of range of the 
stray bullets that clipped the branches now and then, and abated 
our hunger somewhat in the solace of a smoke. 
\_We had but just finished our cigars when the rattle of musketry 
and shriek of shell near the Roimd Tops signalled the "opening 
of the ball," as the boys termed these ominous preludes, and soon 
the battle spread with the speed of a prairie fire through the weird 
rocks and masked pathways of "Devil's Den," and up to the 
border of the wheat -field, and finally to Sherfy's peach-orchard. 

Major Tremaine, "of ours,'' of Sickles' staff, came toward us 
from the left at a gallop. We knew his message well before he 
reached us, and the men sprang into line, and facing left we moved 
toward the orchard at double-quick through a shower of bullets 
and bursting shells. The One Hundred and Fourteenth Pennsyl- 
vania, stretched along the Emmitsburg road from the gate of 
the Sherfy house and past the barn, were hotly at work and 
sorely pressed, but facing their foes gallantly, as were the First 



290 CAMP AND FIELD 

Massachusetts to their right, andRandolph'sbattery totheleft, a^ 
the edge of the orchard. 

We came to a halt in front of the barn, faced to the front, and 
as the charging Mississippians rose to view abov^e the crest, 
traversed at that point by the Emmitsburg road, we poured into 
their faces a hot and ringing volley that stretched them over the 
ground in scores. They staggered, but closed up, and with the 
familiar " Hi-yi ! " returned our fire and pressed forward with the 
savage courage of baited bulls. The whole Third corps was now 
in, and its angled front could be traced by a line of fire and wav- 
ing flags from where Humphrey's right brigade aligned itself 
along the road leading to the town from the right of Sherfy's to 
where the lane intersects it in the peach-orchard, and where later 
bending there led by the wheat -field and the "Den" to the base 
of Little Round Top. 

The batteries of Randolph, Smith, McGilvery and Bigelow were 
belching forth shot, shell and grape into the faces of Longstreet's 
charging columns ; showers of branches fell from the peach-trees 
in the orchard in the leaden hurricane that swept it from two 
sides. Every door, window and sash of the Sherfy house was 
shivered to atoms. The barn close by was riddled like a sieve 
from base to roof, and cannon-shot at every instant split its 
boards and timbei-s into showers of kindling-wood. A shell burst 
under a load of rails beside it, and whipped them through the 
air like straws in a whirlwind. Couriers and aides dashed right 
and left with orders; officers brandished swords and pistols, and 
shouted commands which could not be heard twenty feet away. 

Shells burst over the heads of the firing infantr}^, and sent up 
volcanoes of sand in the front and rear of the fighting line. In- 
numerable balloons of smoke floated over the field and marked 
where shells had burst and sent their deadU' messengers for vic- 
tims below. Torn flags and guidons along the line fell and rose 
again through the thickening powder-fog. 

Soldiers blinded withbloodfromghastlyheadwotuids, streamed 
in hundreds from the orchard, lane, road and wheat-field toward 
the low swale in rear of Sickles' line. Riderless horses, quivering 
from fright, plunged madly over the dead and dying that dotted 
the field from the battle's front to Cemetery ridge. 

Devil's Den, and the dead among its ghastly caverns, now faded 
from sight under a canopy of smoke, but the rattling volleys and 
rino-in<y cheers of friends and foes told us through the fog that the 
hot struggle was still maintained by Sickles' stubborn but hard- 
pressed line, and that the bearded bowlders around the glen were 



CAMP AND FIELD. 291 

still defended by the brave division of Red Diamonds, Phil Kearny's 
pride, where brave Zook fell at the post of duty ; where the brave 
old Ninety-ninth Pennsjdvania kept their tattered colors afloat, 
and where gallant Ellis died at the head of the Orange Blossoms. 

Round Top was now crowned with artillerj^ ; the Maltese cross 
of the Fifth corps and flags of the Ninety-first Pennsylvania rose 
out of the smoke of battle like a burning colosseum. Our little 
regiment was melting away fast in the deadly cross-fire, but 
stood to its work unflinchingly, and closed at last in semi-circle 
around its riddled old flag. 

' Our color-bearer was struck dead. A brave man instantly 
caught up the flag and waved it defiantly. A bullet shattered his 
arm in a few minutes, and a third man held it up. The men of 
my company fell dead and wounded beside me, and how Colonel 
Burns, mounted on his conspicuous old white horse (A. P. Hill), 
escaped the bullets, seemed miraculous. 

But the fast melting line to our left grew perilousl}' thin, and at 
last began to retire, while continuing the fire upon the heavy col- 
umns that Longstreet poured against the angle of the road and 
lane. Graham was shot, and fell from his saddle into 
the enemy's hands. Sickles, with his leg shattered, was 
borne to the rear, and Birney took command. The rebel in- 
fantry entered the orchard, and we received their fire 
almost in our very backs. At last an officer of Humphreys' 
staff gave Colonel Burns the order to retire toward the 
supports of Hancock, and the little remnant of the regiment, 
leaving their dead and dying under their feet, slowlj' retreated. 

At this crisis an excited and bareheaded ofiicer dashed up to us 
and implored us to help drag away a couple of imperiled guns, 
the horses having been all killed and the gunners shot. I called 
to a group near me, and we started after the oflicer at a run and 
back towards the front. A glance to the left at that moment re- 
vealed a thrilling battle picture. The shattered line was retreat- 
ing in separated streams, artillerists heroically clinging to their 
still smoking guns, and brave little infantry squads assisting 
them with their endangered cannon over the soft ground. 

The positions of these batteries showed broken gun-carriages, 
caissons and wheels, while scoi-es of slain horses and men lay 
across each other in mangled and ghastly heaps. From right to 
left the field was strewn with all the terrible wreckage of the bat- 
tle, which continued to rage around the foot of Round Top, where 
the gallant Pennsylvania Reserves, under brave Crawford, fell 
furiously on Longstreet 's right, while help was promptly sent by 



292 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Hancock to cover the endangered right of the Third corj)s, under 
Humphre3'S. Our little group that had responded to the mounted 
officer's appeal had not taken a dozen steps when a shell burst in 
our midst, and I knew no more until I was dragged from under 
the dead horse by the rebel lieuten^mt, as alread}^ related in this 
narrative. 

I found m3'self near the front gate of the Sherf\' house, under 
charge of the officer, who was holding me up, for I felt a numb- 
ness in all my limbs and my head was swimming strangely. 

As I crossed the road. General Longstreet, unattended, rode by 
me with his horse on a w^alk, and soon disappeared in the orchard, 
followed by a rebel batter}'. The lieutenant took lue to the yard 
of the Sherfy house, now filled with Union and Confederate 
\vounded, and kindly washed my face, which was blackened with 
dirt and powder grains, and bleeding in several spots from slight 
cuts. My left eye felt as if full of dust, and was nearly closed 
and inflaming, though it scarcely pained me. I now discovered 
the wound in my ankle and blood in my shoe. The lieutenant 
tied up my eye, and in exchange for my sword-belt gave me a 
good large cotton handkerchief, an exchange en tireh^ satisfactory 
to both of us. I rested under the trees and listened anxiously to 
the progress of the battle still on the left. Gradually the firing 
slackened after the sun had sunk, and finall\' ceased. The Con- 
federates had failed to gain the coveted Round Tops, and had al- 
most destroyed the divisions of Hood and AlcLaws, which with 
Pickett's division, still at Chambersburg, formed Lonfjstreet's 
fine corps. Lee had made a heavy sacrifice, crippled his finest 
corps, and as he also failed to make a tenable lodgment with 
Ewell's corps on the right of Meade's line, the relative position of 
both armies remained substantialh' unchanged. 

Night at last mercifully drew a sable curtain over the cruel 
scene, and the second day's battle was over, leavingthe wounded 
to the surgeons and the peaceful dead to the night requiem of the 
crickets and the mourning whippoorwills. 

In spite of my hurts I slept soundly during the night near 
Sherfy 's, and in the morning, with a group of other prisoners, 
was removed to the Rodgers house, toward the town. The scat- 
tering shots of the skirmishers at dawn along the whole front 
was to me a jo3'ful signal, for it told me that our army had come 
to Gettysburg to sta}'. 

From an elevation near the Emmitsburg road I was enabled, 
partly through the courtesy, and in part through the curiosity of 
the rebel captain who had charge of our little group, to have a 



CAMP AND FIELD. 293 

sweeping view of the whole field, and I saw Pickett's division 
arrive on the field, after its march from Chambersburg, about 
noon. 

An hour later the battle reopened in the most tremendous can- 
nonade ever heard on our continent, and for an hour the earth 
fairly rocked under our feet, and when the Union guns from Round 
Top to Cemetery' Hill got fairly at work, the very trees seemed to 
reel under the appalling thunder. Suddenly it ceased on both 
sides, and Pickett's division moved forward at a quick step to 
its dreadful task, and in superb order. What a thrilling sight I 

As the column advanced over the open plain and began to de- 
scend the gentle slope in Hancock's front, I was astounded at the 
strange silence of the Union position, and a chilling fear possessed 
me for those agonizing minutes that our army had abandoned 
Cemetery Hill, the Ridge and Round Tops, and that all was lost. 
The agony, though keen, was of short duration. "TheUnion bat- 
teries opened almost simultaneously with the musketry in a fear- 
ful chorus, and Pickett's men increased their pace to a run, and 
v^ith a wild cheer, answered bv cheers from their waitinof foes, 
disappeared almost from view in the smoking maelstrom of 
death. 

For a few minutes, that to me seemed a suffering hour, I be- 
lieved that the savage assault had swept our line awav, and my 
heart was in m\" throat; but suddenly a rebel flag, surrounded by 
a disorganized handful of rebels, reappeared, retreating out of 
the smoke ; then another, and another flag and group came back 
in disorder, and a hurricane of the well-known Union cheers rose 
from the ridge, and brought forth no responding rebel "Hi-yi." 
Soon a broken mob with rebel flao^s, mino:lin<j tooether, came 
streaming toward us from all along Hancock's front. The rebel 
officer beside me flung his glass to the ground, and with a ghastly 
face groaned out, with agony, "My God, we're beaten!" My- 
self and fellow-captives forgot the rebels around us in that intox- 
icating moment of joy, and, to the astonishment of our captors, 
we sent up a wild Union cheer. 

But these were battle-field soldiers, not Winder's prison guards, 
and to their honor, be it said, our cheer brought from them not 
one word of rebuke. 

Pickett, dark as Logan, and with his long, iron-grav hair reach- 
ing his shoulders, came riding slovidy by me, unattended, with his 
head bowed almost to his saddle, and apparently in tears, re- 
vealing in his dark face most eloquently the poignant though mute 
suffering of a strong and brave soldier, \vho had seen within the 



294 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Space of a few minutes liis magniriccnt clivisioii annihilated on 
the bright edge of victory at the rebellion's "high-water mark." 
Lee's last desperate hope to dislodge the Union arm}' was blight- 
ed in Pickett's bloody repulse. 

The Union prisoners leaving the field with the remnants of this- 
ill-fated command, looked with eager hope over the smoking ba< 
tie-field for Meade's whole line to burst from the hills on the heels 
of this disaster, and confidently hoped that the sun would set on 
a victory that would bring an early doom to the Confederacy. 
But the blow which Lee expected and dreaded, and for which tlie 
captives prayed, did not descend, though the magnificent S'xth 
corps, now comparatively fresh and rested, and with John Sedg- 
wick for a leader, was ready and eager to be turned loose on the 
battered right wing of the rebel army. But it was not to be; 
and it may be set down as a certainty that Lee saw the sun sink- 
ing on the third of July at Gettysburg with as fervent a prayer 
for darkness as ever Wellington uttered for the coming of " Blucher 
or night" at Waterloo. But the protecting mask ot night was 
at last drawn over the beaten host. Gettysburg was over, and 
death had gathered in sire and son in its cruel and crimson 
harvest. 

With the courage of despair the rebel army spent the bitter 
night in reforming, and its cumbrous train of wagons, seventeen 
miles in length, began its laborious journey through mountain 
passes into the Cumberland valley, bearing its bleeding, shrieking 
and shastlv freis^ht of victims toward the swollen Potomac. 

On the fourth of July the infantry and artdlery, with the Union 
prisoners, followed through a torrent of rain that increased 
hourly in violence, descending in drowning sheets that turned 
the mountain roads into rivers and the glens into lakes. 

The great train, like an endless snake, crept on at suchasnail's 
pace, that the army, like a funeral of drowned and mute specters, 
seemed to be marking time in the pasty mire, the wagons to the 
hubs and the men and captives to their knees. Drivers lashed 
and cursed the starved and straining animals; the wind lashed 
and bent the pines and poplars like whips in its furious blasts, 
and the scene revealed at midnight by the vivid and flashing 
lisrhtninsf, while mountain and gorge echoed back the deafening 
peals of thunder, was one far beyond the descriptive power of 
pen, painter or human tongue, and the memory of the witnesses 
can alone preserve it. 

Thus the retreat continued through Fairfield, ]Montere\', 
Hagerstown, and to Williamsport, on the Potomac. 



CAMP AND FIELD, 295 

The river was too greatly swollen to render fording possible, 
and the only means of crossing was by a couple of low scows, 
drawn slowK' and laboriously by ropes from the Virginia to the 
Maryland shore and back. The fastenings of these repeatedly 
gave way under the power of the flood, and their cargoes, which 
could not exceed forty men, standing upright, were swept down 
the rushing stream, to the amusement of the laughingtroops and 
prisoners, and to the dismay of the rebel commanders, listening for 
the dreaded signals of Meade's advance. 

The rebel army around Williamsport, with all arms mingled in 
an indescribable chaos, was nearly destitute of both infantry and 
artillery ammunition, and wholly without food for man or beast 
Fully 10,000 horses and mules, staggering with hunger, could 
barely keep their feet, much less drag the wagons and guns 
through the vast lake of mud in which the town seemed afloat ; 
while every house, stable, shop and shed was filled with wound- 
ed, not one in ten of whom had medical attention, and but a 
portion the ordinary assistance of comrades; and still the inter- 
minable rain poured down on the drowning, disheartened and 
imperiled army. Again the Union captives looked wistfully to- 
ward the northern horizon, and fervently prayed for a finishing 
blow from Meade, and again their hope died in despair, as visions 
of bloody battles yet to come in Virginia, and dire pictures of 
Southern prison hells rose like hideous specters before them. 

Hopeless days succeeded each other. At last the heavy rains 
ceased; the flood of the river receded, and ten days after the vic- 
tory of Gettysburg, the crippled and nearly famished Army of 
Northern Virginia crossed to the Virginia shore, a part fording at 
Williamsburg, the men to their arm-pits, holding their muskets 
and cartridge-boxes above their heads, and the remainder of 
Lee's force passing over b}^ the pontoon bridge rebuilt at Falling 
Waters, a few miles below. 

Up to this time I failed to find one among my fellow-prisoners 
who could give me a word of news from my regiment. Every 
soldier will, I am sure, understand my feelings I was hungry to 
know what havoc the battle had made among the comrades I 
knew and loved. I would have paid any price for the assurance 
that my brother, of the Fifth Michigan, had come safely through 
that bloodly orchard and wheat-field. As maybe surmised, I had 
an affectionate and peculiar interest in the fate of my comrade, 
George Dennen, whom I last saw urging his company in the thick 
of the battle. In fact, I knew little of the actual casualties even 
of my own company, but had seen Young, Lacy, Sands, Kowitz 



296 CAMP AND FIELD. 

and others fall beside me, and the dead and badly wounded I 
knew must have fallen into the hands of the eneni}', who held the 
peach-orchard during the night of the second ; but I was destined 
to hear of George Dennen in a manner wholly unlooked for and 
peculiar. 

On the day our column of prisoners crossed the Potomac, and 
while in bivouac on the Virginia shore near Bunker Hill, my at- 
tention was attracted by a Confederate soldier standing just out- 
side the sentinePs path, who wore a red cap bearing on its front 
an artillerist's cross cannon and the initials " W. A." 

I had never seen the soldier before, but the cap and initials I in- 
stantly recognized as belonging to the famous "Washington 
Artillery" of New Orleans, an organization well known to me 
while I lived there, and regarded by the residents of the Crescent 
City even before the war with a pride akin to that of New York 
for its darling "Seventh." General J. B. Walton, its commander 
in my time, was at Gettysburg Lee's chief of artillery' . 

The young soldier, whose name I am now unable to recall, and 
whom I at once addressed, was naturally surprised to find his 
uniform recognized by a Yankee lieutenant, and still moreso when 
I inquired by name for several members of his battery, among 
others Walter Crouch and George Campbell. 

The circumstance and my familiarity with New Orleans at once 
admitted me to his friendly interest, and a pleasant conversation 
ensued, in which in his turn "hesprungasurpriseonme," though, 
unhappily, less pleasant in its effect. 

Our talk on the late battle disclosed the fact that his battery 
had engaged our part of the line near the SVierfy house, and he 
mentioned casually that Sherfy's barn had taken fire during the 
cannonade and was burned to the ground, a factalready of course 
known to me; but he further said that he had assisted in the 
rescue of a number of wounded men, both Union and Confeder- 
ate, who had crept into it for its doubtful shelter while the battle 
Avas still on, and who, exhausted from their hurts, were unable 
to escape unaided when the exploding shells set it on fire. 

My interest rose to a high pitch when he added that among the 
rescued were two Federal officers of a New York regiment, a cap- 
tain and a lieutenant, who wore upon their breasts badges of the 
New York Volunteer Fire department The captain, he said, was 
a tall, elderly man, with iron-gray whiskers and hair, and the 
badge-shield bearing the legend of " Engine Company 34; " while 
the lieutenant, a young man, of medium height, with dark hair, 
large eyes, and slight brown mustache, and the mere shade of an 



CAMP AND FIELD. * 297 

■''imperial," wore on his breast a round-shaped badge of "Hose 
Company No. 50." As totheir hurts, hesaidthecaptain's wound, 
though painful, was not dangerous; but the lieutenant's wound, 
he felt assured, would prove fatal — in fact, lie was confident that 
he was now among the dead ! 

I received the tidings like the sting of a minie-ball ; for the 
former report accurately described Captain John Downey of Com- 
pany C, and the latter perfectly fitted George Dennen. 

My Confederate friend was surprised, and expressed regret at 
the pain his tidings had given me, but showed his kindness in a 
marked manner. He went oif to his battery, a mile and more 
distant, and an hour later returned with a haversack of newly- 
baked hoecake and several good slices of bacon, \vhich was truly 
a Godsend, for I was nearly fainting from long fast, and made 
still more miserable by my inflamed eye and wounded ankle. I 
had lived since my capture, ten da\'S before, on a few handfuls of 
raw flour, irregularly issued by the Confederates (who could 
really do no better for themselves during that trying interval); 
and indeed, as already narrated, I had gone into the battle hun- 
gry, having eaten my last satisfying meal at Frederick, on our 
march to Gettysburg. 

In speaking of his battery, my Confederate friend gave it to me 
as a fact that the terms under which it had enlisted were for 
''twenty years or during the war." 

In the light of subsequent events, twent}' years or during the 
Confederacy, would seem to have been a more prudent contract. 
He was an educated, fine-looking young man, and my impression 
is, a relation to the Maurys of Richmond. I do not doubt that 
he was a gallant soldier; certainly his conduct proved him a gen- 
tleman, and had Jefferson Davis committed the care of the Union 
prisoners to soldiers of his caliber, instead of to "thugs" like the 
Winders, the Turners, Wirz and Gee, the South and Christendom 
would not to-day have the atrocious crime and festering shame 
of Anderson ville, Salisbury, Libby and Belle Isle to blush for. 

Learning that I v^'as from New York, and believing that an 
early exchange would enable me to visit that city, he asked me as 
a favor to deliver a letter which he had written to Dan Bryant, 
the famous New York minstrel, to whom he was in some way re- 
lated. 

I made no reference to Dennen's letter, but suggested that the 
privacy of his own communication might not be respected by the 
authorities at Richmond, where a rigid search might be expected. 
To this he answered that in such a contingency, should I find my 



298 CAMP AND FIELD. 

comrades being deprived of their letters, I was authorized to 
destroy it. With this understanding I accepted the trust, glad to 
render so slight a service to one who had so generously favored 
me. He then bade me good-by, and I saw him no more. Our 
march took us through Winchester, along the broad turnpike 
made famous by Buchanan Reed's poem of "Sheridan's Ride," and 
through the towns of the Shenandoah valley. Near Winchester 
we passed General Lee seated at the side of the road on a camp- 
stool, he and his staff having halted in the shade to rest and re- 
fresh themselves and horses. 

His hair was white, and his manner grave and dignified. He 
looked at the column of Federal officers as they passed with no 
more and no less visible emotion or interest than if they were a 
troop of passing Confederates, and when a band, at the sportive 
instigation of some young fellows of his staff, struck up "Yankee 
Doodle," wildly cheered by the prisoners, then switched off onto 
"Dixie," cheered louder yet by our guards and Lee's staff, and 
when both prisoners and Confederates roared with laughter, and 
cheered together over the ludicrous effect, and the harmless and 
witt\^ absurdity, his face alone remained unrippled with a smile. 

I cannot doubt that the Confederate leader was at that moment 
bowed down with a tremendous responsibilit}', and possibly re- 
minded afresh by the sight of the prisoners of the mighty stake 
for which he had lately played and lost at Gett\'sburg; yet his 
studied frigidity was disappointing, and quite as much so, I feel 
assured, to his comrades who stood loyally around him as to the 
Union captives. For my own part, I could not help thinking this 
was overdone dignity, and the impression was forced upon my 
mind that General Lee, conceding him the high qualities of head 
and heart claimed for him by his admirers, was not immaculate 
or above a bit of acting, and that his role of "dignity " seemed 
overstrained from overstudy. 

Even the undemonstrative Grant would have smiled at the 
nonsense. Sherman would have greeted it with an honest guffaw, 
and Sheridan would have roared ; yet all these great soldiers were 
West Pointers, and all had dignity of the healthiest growth. The 
incident, though trifling, was both memorable and suggestive, 
and hence is gathered in with the more impressive pictures re- 
membered by the Union captives during this memorable march 
under guard, of one hundred and fifty miles, from the field of Get- 
tysburg. 

At Staunton we were at last put on board cars, and on July 18, 



CAMP AND FIELD. 299 

in the early evening, we were admitted within the doors of 
Libby prison. 

The introductory ceremony was the registry- of names b}' "Lit- 
tle Ross." Then Dick Turner, of infamous renown, began his 
search and "went through " his victims with a gusto that showed 
his love for the work, and drove his pilfering fingers through the 
prisoners' pockets with a speed and skill acquired by long 
practice. 

To my dismay and disgust, I saw^ now that private letters were 
not respected, and the officers yet unsearched noting the fact, be- 
gan a rapid destruction of their letters, until the floor looked like a 
fall of snow. I thought of George Dennen's letter and that of rti}^ 
Confederate friend, and dreaded the imperative duty which was 
now^ forced upon me. I would indeed have taken any reasonable 
risk to have saved and delivered those messages inviolately, but 
the search was close, and the chances of concealing them from the 
brute now before me, were slender ; nearly all had been searched 
and sent to their quarters up-stairs ; my turn w^as at hand. 

Turner at this moment discovered the wholesale destruction of 
letters by the sight of the littered floor. He had been drinking 
heavily, as usual, and the sight enraged him. He roared with an 
oath to George Stansil, the sergeant, to "Stop them d d Yan- 
kees from tearing up any more papers." I stepped backward to 
the window, and before the sergeant could reach me, Imadesmall 
ribbons of the two letters and flung the fragments right and left. 

Turner saw the action, stopped his search, and for a few seconds 
glowered on me with a malevolence that smothered speech, and 
which gave his villainous countenance an expression absolutely 
hideous. 

He ceased his search of the few yet around him, and ordered the 
sergeant to bring me forward. He searched me with the eager 
keenness of a ferret from head to foot, and even ran his hand 
roughly under the handkerchief that still held a damp rag over 
my eye. 

I had spent the little money I had by me when captured to pur- 
chase biscuit and other food on the long, weary jpurnev from the 
battle-field, and Turner, now more than eager to rob me, found 
nothing to gratify his savage humor but a penknife and a small 
piece of shell that had wounded the head of Martin Kowitz, of 
my company, at Gettysburg. 

This trifle offered the opportunity he thirsted for, and coolly 
putting it in his pocket, he pushed me rudely aside, and proceeded 
to search another victim. 



300 CAMP AND FIELD, 

I had not grown accustomed as yet to tliespecial class of guards 
selected to carry out the "system" ot Davis and the cabal at 
Richmond among the prisoners. Aly intercourse thus far had 
been, since capture, with Confederates who served at tne front, 
and usually treated their captives by the recognized and honor- 
able code of civilized warfare. 

In decent but vigorous terms I protested against the unwar- 
ranted act of depriving me of this tritle, which I claimed was 
neither a weapon nor a thing of intrinsic value, but personal 
property and a soldier's keepsake. 

Withoiit a word of replv he raised his arm, before I dreamt of 
his purpose, and struck me a heavy blow just over the wt)unded 
eve. I staggered under the brutal and unlooked-for blow against 
a i^uard, who had a loose bayonet in his hand, which my hand 
unconsciously caught from his careless hold, and the touch of the 
weapon fdled mc witha maddesiretokill thecowardly ruffian, ade- 
sire which he could not have failed to note, for he sprang l)ack to 
the stairway, through the guards, a dozen of whom stood around 
me with muskets, and drew his pistol. 

The guards and remaining ]n-isoners in the room now closed 
around in excitement. The drunken brute came forward, and 
sending the prisoners up-stairs, leaving me alone with himself and 
guard, he planted himself in a swaggering attitude before me, and 
for a few minutes poured out his wrath in the picturesque pro- 
fanity of which he was a consummate master; and at last, hav- 
ino- exhausted the list of yile names to which he deemed me 
entitled, he tossed a bunch of keys to the guards and ordered me 
taken to the dark, narrow dungeon, mider the sidewalk, where I 
spent the first night of my ten months' residence in Libby. 

I was not at all lonesome, however. I must do Dick Turner the 
iustice to say that he was not really in favor of "solitary" con- 
finement, as I discovered as soonasthekey wasturnedonmeinthe 
dark den, foran enormous ratran either over myfaceor limbs on an 
average of every tive minutes during the entire night. The whirli- 
gig of time, however, brings strange changes of fortune, for Tur- 
ner lived to succeed mc as a prisoner in that dungeon when 
Richmond fell. 

Poor Kowitz. whose head this bit of shell had gashed beside 
nie at Gettvslnirg, and which secured me special accommodations 
at Libby, had that head completely torn from his shoulders by a 
shell at Petersburg a year later, and \yhile I was still in prison. 
The fragment that caused this troxdjle is still among the trophies 
of the defunct Confederacy, and in destroying the letters I had 



CAMr AND FIT^.LD. 301 

rendered the last anrl only service in my power to both m}- com- 
rade and foe. Turner's Ijrutaiity on this occasion is noticed in 
Richardson's book, 'The Field, Dungeon and Escape.' 

In a letter received months afterwards in Libby from Colonel 
Burns, the news of George Dennen's death was fully confirmed, 
and the report of my Confederate friend fully verified. The news, 
though not a surprise, pained my heart most keenly, Jind his 
prophetic words rose vividlv to m\' memory: "I shall not wear 
it long. I will follow Tom, and be killed in the next battle I " 

Such was the chapter of incidents that rose to m\' mind when 
next I visited Gettysburg, twenty-five years after the battle, and 
stood at the grave of my comrade in the beautiful cemeter\^ that 
crowns the Immortal Hill, and read the touching and brief legend 
that teils so little to the stranger, but so much tcj me, of a young 
hero of the Union, the twin of Tom, who sleeps at Chancellors- 
ville, and the friend andcomradeof him who aifectionately records 
this memoir of his soldier life. Let those who pass the spot drop 
a flower over the peaceful mound. Thev will find it easily in the 
New York circle of graves, and by the simjjle inscri])tion : " Lieu- 
tenant George Dennen, Company' C, Fourth Excelsior." 

A singular incident attended my visit in 1888 to Gettysburg. 
Among the visiting survivors of our regiment who came to mark 
the spot where our monument is to stand, was Sergeant John 
Benson, of Company F, who had been severely ^vounded in the 
shoulder in the battle. The bullet had been extracted, and for 
the generation that had since elapsed, had been ^vorn suspended 
to his watch-chain. 

That such a thing should become detached and lost could not 
ordinarily be regarded as either strange or important enough a 
circumstance to justify a published mention, but that the com- 
rade should have carried it securely about him in all the wander- 
ings of a quarter of a centurv, and then return and lose it on the 
battle-field, where he had received it hot from a rebel musket, was 
certainly an odd freak of fortune. 

He was, of course, inconsolable over the loss, and we all made 
a vigilant but vain search for the bullet, which, indeed, had 
proven a most aggravating trophy, for. it broke his bones in 
1863, when he got it at Gettysburg, and nearly broke his heart 
when he lost it there in 1888. This incident recalls another odd 
happening in my regiment. At the battle of Bristow Station, 
August 27, 1862, the first man shot in the regiment was Charles 
O'Xeil, a sergeant of my company (H), the bullet — which I dis- 
tinctly heard strike — wounding him in the head. Within five 



302 CAMP AND FIELD. 

minutes another Charles O'Neil, also a sergeant of Company K, 
was shot exactly in the same manner! 

Such are a few of the events that were revived in my memory, 
when, after the flight of twenty-five years, with their alternating 
scenes of comedy and tragedy, their successes and failures, laugh- 
ter and tears, I revisited the field of Gettysburg, and stood 
among the graves on the lovely hill that once flamed with Union 
cannon, and is now the peaceful bed of its slain defenders. 

Among them sleep the twin beside the rest of my gallant com- 
rades that followed the flag of my beloved old regiment. 

Brave old Seventy-third ! No pictured volume preserves in 
statelv rhetoric and admiring eulogy the story of your marches 
and battles, or displays the portraits of its vanished Union 
braves, but their glory lives in the affection of their country, and 
is safeU^ treasured in the hearts of those who loved and lost 
them. 

The lingering few who shared in their battles and marches will 
step with them still in soul to the immortal music of liberty. 

With diffidence this fragment of tribute is proffered affection- 
atelv by one of the old Seventy-third, who proudly followed its 
colors in his youth, and will treasure its glorious memories to the 
last camping-ground. 



©attfe of ^ooKo^t (^oun\mn. 

NOVEJIBEB 24, 1863. 

TOLD BY A CONFEDERATE COMMANDER (WILSON'S BRIGADE). 



T. COO^SXS 2^E3BIT. 



T©— S*S— «y 



^^^ 





i^ Y brigade was at the 
l^foot of Lookout 



^v3 Mountain and was 
not active!}' engaged, so that I 
was able to witness the move- 
ments from the summit of the 
mountain, and, later in the 
day, to hear from stragglers 
who came to my camp, of the 
events that were taking place 
on the mountain side. 

At 11 o'clock A. M., on the 
24:th, the Moccasin Bend bat- 
tery began a furious bombard- 



ment of my position and at the 
same time we heard the sounds 
of skirmishing around the 
mountain caused by Hooker's 
advance across Lookout creek 
from Wauhatchie. The Con- 
federate pickets slowly retired 
up the mountain pressed from 
the front and rear by a heavy 
column, until they reached the 
Craven farm. Here, Walthall, 
with his depleted brigade of 
about 1,000 men, finding that 
he was attacked by a large 
column on his left and rear, 
after fighting half an hour, 
gave the order to retreat. This 
order should have been given 
sooner, for about half his men 
were captured here. The small 
number of killed and wounded 
was due to the clouds viiich 
obscured the troops and to the 
protection afforded them by the 
earthworks around Craven's 
farm. The Federals were 
likewise protected by the rocks 
and trees on the mountain. 



304 



CAMP ANn FIEI.B. 



One of the brigades of 
Geary's division — Cruft's, I 
think— pushed on that night 
and had a heavy skirmish with 
one of Cheatham's brigades 
mider the palisades. The des- 
ultory firing which followed 
was continued during the night 
by a few Confederate pickets 
from behind trees on the 
mountain side, which served 
to draw a heavy fire from the 
Federal lines, thus producing 
the impression that a battle 
was going on. 

Had General Hooker ad- 
vanced his men to the Summer- 
town road a few hundred yar^s 
beyond Craven's house, he 
could Jiave captured many 
wagons and much artillery 
sent in that direction; and had 
he advanced to the foot of the 
mountain by this road, the 
brigade which I commanded 
would most probably have been 
captured, for it was after mid- 
night before I received orders 
to march to Missionary Ridge. 
The rest of Walkers division 
had gone to Missionary Ridge, 
and there could have been but 
little resistance to so large a 
force. General Bragg having 
ascertained the movement 
made by General Sherman on 
his right flank, determined to 
evacuate and yield Lookout 
Mountain, and was in the act 



of concentrating his right on 
Missionary Ridge when Hooker 
made his attack. Thus it will 
be seen that it was ' not con- 
templated to bring on a gen- 
eral engagement at Lookout 
Mountain. Why it was not I 
leave to other critics, my pur- 
pose being not to find fault, 
but to prove that General 
Grant was justified in saying 
that there was no such battle 
as the " battle above the 
clouds." 

The occupation of Raccoon 
Mountain and Lookout valley 
established the Federals in 
possession of Chattanooga, as 
it gave them a route for the 
transportation of their supplies. 
From that time the loss of 
Lookout Mountain was a fore- 
gone conclusion. But the im- 
portance of General Hooker's 
attack and the impetuosity 
with which he made it should 
not be underestimated, as it 
was as great as a hard won 
victory in its moral effect upon 
the troops of both armies. To 
see the old flag floating from 
the heights at Point Lookout 
must have been cheering to 
Thomas's corps as it marched 
the next morning against Mis- 
sionary Ridge, and depressing 
to the retreating Tennesseeans 
as they turned their backs on 
their state. 



Born in a Battle. 

biTTLE "SHELL ANNA." 

JULY, 1864. 

GENERAL LOGAN BECOMES GOnEATHEB, 



A TRUE STORY THAT IS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 
JiY A MEMJiEM OI' THE loth CO JCJ'S. 



^»^^*'^'»'''~^^»^^'^<">*'«'»^'''€i^^ 




)URING the summer of 1864, the army under Sherman 
liad fallen back from its position before Atlanta and 
swept around to Hood's rear, General Logan leading' 
the advance. We were not molested until we neared 
Flint river. There the enemy had planted a masked battery, 
and, as we approached, it enfiladed our line. You could scarce 
encounter more disagreeable companions than shot and shell, 
and the boys were not long in taking to the timber. General 
Logan at once ordered u\) a field battery of brass "Napoleons," 
and accepted the challenge for an artillery duel. There was 
nothing to direct the fire of our gunners save the white puffs of 
smoke; but they soon silenced the rebel cannon, and cleared 
the way for the column. 

We then rode forward again. Just as we turned a bend in 
the road we emerged suddenly into a small clearing. A rude 
log cabin stood in the clearing, and hanging from one of the 
bushes we noticed a yellow cloth. 

It naturally occurred to us that this was an improvised hos- 
pital, and we rode up to inquire. At the door of the cabin an 
old woman, evidently of the "cracker" type, presented her- 
self, but, on seeing that we were "Yankees," beat a hasty re- 
treat. We were not disposed to be so easily baffled, and calling 
her out began to ply her with questions. 

She told us " there wa'n't no wounded men thar," and when 
asked why she had put out a yellow flag reijlied: " Waal, yer 



306 CAMP AND FIELD 

see, my gal is sick, and I reckoned ef I put out that yer hosp't'l 
rag, you'ns wouldn't be pesterin' 'round." 

'' What's the matter with your child? " said I; " we are med- 
ical officers." 

" Waal, now," she responded, " ef you'ns is real doctors, just 
look in and see. Time my gal was sickest, two of yourn shells 
come clar through my cabin, and, I tell you, it was right skeery 
for a spell." 

We accepted the invitation and walked in. The cabin, built 
of rough pine logs, afforded but one room, about twelve feet 
square. A small log meat-house was the only outbuilding, — 
the cow stable having been knocked to pieces by our shells, — 
except a small bark-thatched "lean-to,"' in which we found a 
loom containing a partially completed web of coarse cotton 
"homespun." Aside from this loom, the only household arti- 
cles were an old skillet, a dilapidated bed, two or three chairs 
without backs, and a queer collection of gourds. The shells 
had indeed played havoc with the interior. The roof had been 
badly shattered, and a stray shot had pierced the walls. 

A SAD SPECTACLE. 

It had cut one of the logs in two, and forced one jagged end 
out into the room so that it hung threateningly over the bed 
upon which we saw a young girl, by whose side was a babe 
just born. It was a touching spectacle. Here, in this lonely 
cabin, stripped by lawless stragglers of both armies of food and 
clothing, and shattered by the flying shells of artillery, in the 
storm and fury of the battle, had been born this sweet innocent. 
The mother was the wife of a Confederate soldier whose blood 
had stained the "sacred soil" of Virginia but a few months 
after marriage, and the child was fatherless. The babe was 
still in its own innocence, but the writer with his jackknife cut 
from the unfinished web in the old loom a piece of coarse home- 
spun, in which it was soon deftly swaddled. Fortunately we 
had our hospital knapsacks with us, and w^e did all that our 
limited stores permitted to relieve the wants of the young 
mother and child. 

A CHRISTENING IN ORDER. 

But by this time quite a number of officers had gathered about 
the cabin, and they amused themselves by listening to the old 
lady's account of this stirring incident. One of the officers had 



CAMP AND FIELD. 307 

given her some "store terbacker," with which she had filled a 
cob pipe, and the fact that she was spitting through her teeth 
with such accuracy as to hit a fly at ten paces, nine times out 
of ten, showed that she was enjoying herself after the true 
" cracker " style. Presently some one suggested that the baby 
ought to be christened, and it being duly explained to her, she 
replied, " Oh, yes! baptised, I reckon, if you'ns has got any 
preacher along." 

This was all the boys wanted, and an orderly was at once 
sent back with the compliments of the surgeon, requesting that 
a chaplain might be allowed to return with the messenger. 

The general asked the orderly for what purpose a chaplain 
was wanted, and the orderly replied that the doctors were going 
to have a baptism. 

SOME DEVILTRY ON HAND. 

Upon this General Logan (for he it was) significantly re- 
marked that the names mentioned were sufficient to satisfy 
him that some deviltry was on hand, but that the chaplain 
might go. Then, inviting the colonel, who happened to be rid- 
ing with him, he set out himself for the scene, and soon joined 
the party at the cabin. 

"General," said the doctor, "you are just the man we're 
after." 

"For what?" 

"For a godfather," replied the doctor. 

"Godfather to what?" demanded the general. 

The matter was explained, and as the doctor led the way into 
the house, the boys noticed there was something in Black 
Jack's face that they were not wont to see there, and that in 
his eyes there was a humid tenderness far different from their 
usual flashing brightness. He stood for a moment silent, 
gazing at the mother and fatherless child, and their pitiful sur- 
roundings, and turning to those about him, said tersely: — 

" That looks rough." 

Glancing around at the ruins wrought by our shells, he called 
out: " I say, boys, can't you straighten this up a little? Fix up 
that roof. There are plenty of ' stakes' around that old stable; 
push back that log into place; help the old lady to clear out 
the litter, and — I don't think it would hurt you any to leave a 
part of your rations! " 



308 CAMP AND FIELD. 

The boys leaned their muskets against the logs, and, while 
some cut brush, others swept up the splinters and pine knots 
that the shot and shell had strewn over the floor, and not one 
of them forgot to go to the corner of the cabin and empty his 
haversack! It made a pile of commissary stores, consisting of 
meat, coffee, sugar, hard-tack and chickens (foraged from her 
next door neighbor), surpassing any that this poor "cracker" 
woman had probably ever seen. 

This done, the next thing was the christening, and the chap- 
lain came forward to perform his sacred office. 

" What are you going to give her for a name? I want suthin' 
right peart, now," said grandmother. 

She was told that the name should be satisfactory, and forth- 
with she brought out the baptismal bowl — a gourd — full of 
water fresh from the spring. 

THE CHRISTENING. 

General Logan now took the baby, wrapped in its swaddling 
clothes of homespun, and held it while the chaplain went 
through with the ceremony. The latter was brief and solemn, 
the spectators behaving with becoming reverence, and the 
battle- born babe was christened " Shell Anna." 

The party now turned to leave the cabin and resume the 
march, when General Logan, taking a gold coin from his 
pocket — a coin that he had carried as a pocket-piece for many a 
day — presented it to the old lady as a " christening gift " for 
his godchild, and the officers and men added one by one a 
" greenback," until the sum was swelled to an amount greater 
than this brave-hearted "cracker" had ever handled. Before 
parting, the general cautioned her to put the money in a safe 
place, lest some " bummer should steal it, in spite of every- 
thing," and then, ordering a guard to be kept over her cabin 
until the last straggler had passed, he rode away. The old 
lady's good-by was: "Waal! them thar Yanks is the beatenist 
critters I ever seen! " 




/T)i55io9 ^}d6<^. 



A MAGNIFICENT ASSAULT THAT WAS MADE BY SOL- 
DIERS WITHOUT ORDERS. 



"LET 'EM GO," vSAID THOMAS TO GRANT, AND THEY WENT. 



BY JAMES C. RODMAN, 51st ILLINOLS. 



f>T was at Mission Ridge that we got even with the John- 
W^ nies for the way they treated us at Chickamauga. For 
■^ two months we had been completely bottled up in Chat- 
Js^e) tanooga. From the Tennessee river at the north end of 
the Ridge, away around to the peak of old Lookout, on the river 
below the town, stretched the line of rebel entrenchments. There 
was no communication with Bridgeport by rail or water. 
Meager supplies could only be obtained by hauling them over the 
mountains. The wagon trains were constantly harassed by 
rebel cavalry. Rations for men and animals became more and 
more scanty, until we were compelled to live upon a quarter of 
the regular allowance. For weeks we were hungry all the time. 
Men became gaunt and weak. Horses and mules died by hun- 
dreds. It was ''hard lines" for the Army of the Cumberland. 
The rebels had not a doubt that the army would soon be starved 
into surrender. They felt certain of their prey, confident that it 
was only a question of a few daj^s when we would be theirs, bag 
and baggage. The starving soldiers exhibited the utmost pa- 
tience and fortitude. Without complaint they did their daily 
round of duty, in camp or on the picket line, with an abiding 
faith that in some way they would get out of the scrape. 
In the meantime Thomas had superseded Rosecrans. Then came 



310 CAMP AND FIELD. 

General Grant. Soon afterward, Joe Hooker, with two corps 
from the Army of the Potomac, marched down from Bridc^eport 
and opened up our "cracker line." I never heard such yelling as 
the boys did when the whistle of a locomotive was heard and the 
first train laden with food and clothing pulled into Chattanooga. 
"Uncle Billy" Sherman arrived with several divisions of his 
army. All these things gave a decidedly different aspect to the 
situation. Grant at once laid his plans to dislodge Bragg from 
the position he had so long held, and so much to our discomfort. 
It was now near the end of November, 1863. 

I will not undertake to describe the days of fighting which cul- 
minated in the grand charge upon Mission Ridge. It will be suf- 
ficient for the purpose of this article to say that the Union forces 
crowded the eneni}^ at every point. Hooker scaled Lookout 
Alountain and drove the rebels from it, while Sherman operated 
against Bragg's right at the north end of the Ridge. The Army 
of the Cumberland was in the centre of Grant's line. Grant was 
just a little bit fearful that Chickamauga had taken the "sand " 
out of that army and that it wouldn't fight. Thomas told Grant 
quietly to wait till his boys got a chance and he would see 
whether the}' would fight or not. 

It was on November 25 that the grand assciult took place. 
The regiment of which I was a member belonged to Ilarker's 
Brigade of Sheridan's Division of the Fourth corps. This corps 
had been formed by the consolidation of the old Twentieth and 
Twenty-first corps— formerly commanded by McCook and Crit- 
tenden — of the Army of the Cumberland. General Grant had de- 
termined upon an attempt to dislodge Bragg's rebel arm^^ from 
its troublesome position on Mission Ridge. Longstreet, who 
brought west a corps from Lee's army and fought at Chicka- 
mauga, had gone to attack Burnside at Knoxville, while the 
Union army had been largely augmented by the troops of Sher- 
man and Hooker. The ])rcliminary operations of the two com- 
manders last named have already been alluded to. At the same 
time Wood's Division of the Fourth corps had driven the enemy 
from Orchard Knob, a high hill and an important strategic point, 
halfway betw^een Chattanooga and the Ridge. 

The early part of the twenty-fifth was occupied in getting the 
army into position to operate in harmony with the movements 
of Hooker and Sherman. These maneuvers put the enemy on the 
alert, and bv the aid of glasses it could be seen that he was actively 
engaged in preparing to resist a possible attack. Bragg believed 
his fortified position on Mission Ridge to be impregnable. He 
would have been fully justified in this opinion had not subsequent 



;amp and field. 



311 



events shown that nothino^ was impossible to brave men. 
It was between 8 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon when six suc- 
cessive cannon shots, fired from a battery on Orchard Knob, 
gave the signal for the Army of the Cumberland, occupying the 
centre of the long line, to advance. Marker's was the centre 
brigade in the formation oi' Sheridan's division. The order from 
Grant to Thomas was that his troops should dislodge the enemy 
from the rifle-pits and entrenchments at the base of the Ridge. 
For the time being he contemplated no advance bcA^ond that. 
To occupy the rifle-pits was the order given to division and bri- 
gade commanders. 

When the order was given to move forward, the soldiers re- 
sponded with the greatest alacrity. It was clear that they were 
ready and eager to avenge Chickamauga, and that there was 
plenty of fight in them yet. As soon as the magnificent lines 
started across the intervening space, the rebel batteries on the 
Ridge opened upon them with great fury, their fire being returned 
by the heavy guns in the forts in front of Chattanooga. The 
soldiers broke into a double-quick, to pass as cjuickly as possible 
inside the range of the enemy's guns. The rebel skirmishers were 
soon met and brushed awa\^ like a line of cobwebs. Thev broke 
for the works at the foot of the Ridge with the soldiers in blue 
close upon then heels. Without stopping for an instant, the as- 
sailants stormed the lower line of works, 2foin<j over them like a 
whirlwind, simultaneously, at a dozen points. Probably half of 
the men stationed to defend them were captured, the other half 
flying in a panic up the Ridge to the main line of heavy entrench- 
ments. Then came a critical time. The I'nion soldiers were halted 
at the works and the lines were reformed. The crest was ablaze 
with musketry, and by depressing their field-pieces the rebels 
poured a merciless fire of shell and canister into the troops below. 
One of three things must be done — to hold the position gained, 
to retreat, or to advance. To stav at the lower works was 
death, retreat they would not, and to advance seemed almost an 
impossibility. As if moved by a common impulse, the soldiers 
chose the latter. There was no order to move beyond the rifle- 
pits, but the men took the bits in their teeth, so to speak, and 
started up the Ridge on their own account. Indeed, some of the 
officers attempted to check the forward movement, because it 
Avas unauthorized, but nothing could stav the impetuous ardor 
of the troops. 

"Why, General," said Grant to Thomas, as they stood on 
Orchard Knob intently watching the movement, "they are going 
right up the Ridge !" 



ol2 CAMP AND FIELD. 

"Well, let them go," answered "Old Pap" quietly; "my boys 
are not afraid !" 

Right up, in the face of that deadly fire, went the soldiers. The 
officers, finding that the men were going any way, caught the 
same spirit. Sheridan was at the very front of his division, 
cheering and inspiring the men bv his example. It was hot, short 
work. Each man seemed moved by an ambition to be the first 
at the top. Just which brigade reached the crest first is a ques- 
tion that has been disputed ever since the war closed and will, no 
doubt, continue to be as long as anybody lives who was in, the 
charge. One thing is certain, and that is that the boys did "get 
there" — many thousand of them. At some points the ground 
was more favorable than at others, and there more rapid prog- 
ress was possible. If Sheridan's men were not the first, they were 
but a few minutes behind in leaping over the breastworks into 
the very faces of the C^onlederates. 

The audacity of such an assault seemed to have its efi'ect upon 
the rebels. Had they been as brave as the men who scaled the 
Ridge, they should have been able, according to all human calcu- 
lations, to repel the assault. As it was, they gave way in confu- 
sion as the line was pierced in half a dozen places. The rebel 
generals made frantic efibrts to stem the tide of disaster. Small 
and isolated bodies of Confederates made futile attempts to resist 
the onset, but the\' were quickly driven and joined in the common 
rout. 

It was nearly night when the Ridge was carried — too late for a 
general pursuit. Sheridan's division, however, followed the flee- 
ing and demoralized army for a considerable distance, capturing 
many prisoners. In a final charge upon a force which had taken 
a strong position, it took two pieces of artillery in addition to 
those it captured at the crest of the Ridge. 

The immediate fruits of the victory were great and substantial. 
Bragg lost more than six thousand prisoners and forty-five pieces 
of artillery. More important than all else, the Ihiion army was 
free once more and Chattanooga was no lono-er in dangler. The 
assault, one of the grandest of the war, was the result of an in- 
spiration. The glorious ending relieved the soldiers of the blame 
that, in case of failure, would have been attached to them for 
transcending their orders. It was a victory won by the valor 
and enthusiasm of the rank and file, and not by the generals. 

Bragg's army fell back behind Rockv Face Ridge, at Dalton. 
and Grant was at once able to send a strong force to the relief of 
Burnside at Knoxville. 



NOVEMBER 25, 1863. 

HOOKER'S CAPTURE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 

LIGHTING ON MIST-COVEBED HEIGHTS. 

By DANIEL R. HUNDLEY, Colonel of the 3 1st Alabama. 



t^HE capture of Lookout Mountain was a brilliant achieve- 
^ ment on the part of the Federals; but their success was 



'^J^ due more to the want of sagacity of the Confederates 
than 



ss?.''^®^; : 



to any other cause. 
Lookout Mountain, properly 
defended, could have resisted 
100,000 assailants. 

The mountain towers seven 
hundred feet above the plain 
on wliicli is built the thriving- 
city of Chattanooga. Point 
Lookout is the highest part of 
the mountain. It is a bluff of 
solid rock descending ab- 
ruptly for a hundred feet or 
more to a green declivity. 
This terminates in a compar- 
atively level plateau about 
half way up the mountain, some hundred or two yards in width 
and extending back to where the road from Cliattanooga to 
Point Lookout first begins the ascent of the bluff above men- 
tioned. From this plateau o-n the western side of the mountain 
there is a gradual descent to Lookout creek, a small stream 
flowing at the mountain's base. 

After my brigade had been relieved it was replaced by Wal- 
thall's brigade. This is the brigade surprised by Hooker, and 




314 CAAIP AND FIELD. 

which met with such a crushing defeat. At that time we had 
on top of the mountain a whole division of infantry and a sec- 
tion of artillery, if no more. This division was Stevenson's, 
and I belonged to Pettus's brigade, which was a part of it. 

The attack on Lookout Mountain was a complete surprise to 
General Bragg and his troops. The heavy fog enabled the 
Federals to make the surprise a complete success. There were 
men enough on the mountain to have held it against double 
the number under Hooker's command. Soon after receiving 
my instructions as officer of the day, 1 made a visit to the line 
of pickets extending along the whole brow of the mountain. It 
was more than foggy; the atmosphere was thick, almost to 
darkness. 

As I neared the farthest outpost along the brow of the mount- 
ain, facing towards the west, there was a sudden rift in this 
vapory cloud, and I was startled to see the Federal army, col- 
umn after column, pouring across the little stream which 
flowed at the mountain's base. It was for only a moment, for 
the rift in the cloud speedily closed. What I had seen filled 
me with consternation and alarm. Turning my horse I has- 
tened to General Stevenson's headquarters. I made all possible 
speed, but before I could reach my destination the " volleyed 
thunder " told me that I was too late. 

General Stevenson seemed to be dumfounded. He gave me 
Colonel Bibb's regiment as a reserve, and told me to hold the 
top of the mountain at "all hazards." He sent the rest of the 
division to Walthall's assistance, for he, with a remnant of his 
brigade, had safely retreated along the plateau before men- 
tioned, until he reached the summer houses overlooking the 
Chattanooga valley, where he made a gallant stand. Here our 
division found him and here the battle raged during the rest of 
the day. 

Below us the battle continued to rage with unabated fury, 
neither side advancing nor retreating. It filled one with emo- 
tions of awe as he stood on the brink of that fearful precipice 
and peered down into that miniature picture of hell. 

Just after dark the combat below began gradually to die 
away. Reporting to headquarters, I was notified that General 
Bragg had ordered the mountain to be evacuated forthwith. 
I was instructed to go around to all the pickets in person and to 
notify them of this order. Fortunately, the fog had lifted, else 



CAMP AND FIELD. 31o 

I could no more have found my way to those pickets than I 
could have found my way to the moon. 

Solitary and alone I started on my silent round. Not a sound 
greeted my ears save the echoing clatter of my horse's hoofs 
over the stony ground, as he galloped ahead. I presume it was 
near 11 o'clock p. m. by the time the last picket had been re- 
moved. 

Presently I was surprised to see another solitary horseman 
come riding towards me, a man of huge stature; at least such 
he appeared to me to be in the gloom. It was too dark to dis- 
cover the color of his uniform, but a heavy saber hung at his 
side. Halting my horse, with a firm grip on one of my pistols, 
I demanded: " Who goes there?" The unknown also came to 
a halt and answered in sharp, decisive tones: "Jackson, of 
Tennessee. Who are you?" "Officer of the day," I replied 
simply, and rode on. The unknown rider, without further par- 
ley, did the same. 

But was he "Jackson, of Tennessee "? This is a question I 
have frequently asked myself, but never as yet have I been 
able to answer it satisfactorily. Certain I am that " Jackson, 
of Tennessee," had no business there at that hour of the night 
and his horse's head was bearing him away from the Confed- 
erate lines, not towards them. A short time after I found my 
guide, and together we soon safely descended to the valley. 

If "Jackson, of Tennessee," was a Federal, as I am often 
tempted to believe, then I presume I was the last Confederate 
that ever set foot on the top of Lookout Mountain. 



YOUNGEST PRISONER. 



[HE youngest prisoner of the An- 
dersonville pen was August Dip- 
pier, of Co. F, 155th N. Y. Regt. 
He was called the Andersonville 

" Kid." He fought bravely and was 

captured at Cold Harbor. 



(oRPORAL TANrlER'S HARD LUCK. 



TELLS HOW HE LOST BOTH FEET AT THE SECOND 
BATTLE OF BULL RUN. 



My Dear Sir — I am in receipt of your letter asking me to give 
you some reminiscences of my army life, specifying one in- 
stance which I mentioned once in Faneuil Hall, Boston, I con 
sider it the most pathetic of all I have ever heard or read of ii: 
the annals of war. It is absolutely true, and is as follows: — 

I was in the 87th Regt. N. Y. Vols, We had passed through 
the campaign of the Peninsula; we came from there to join 
Pope; we had several days' intermittent fighting around Ma- 
nassas, Bristow, Catlett's Station, until on the oOth of August,. 
1862, we were on the field of the second Bull Run. Along ir. 
the afternoon of that day, I was struck Avith a piece of shelly 
which necessitated the amputation of both of my lo^er limbs. 
T<he operation was performed under fire. My comrades, placing 
me upon a stretcher, started to carry me from the field. For- 
tunes of war were against us, and it was impossible for them 
to get me away. They carried me into a house, and filling my 
canteen with water bade me good-by, and barely escaped being 
taken prisoners. I with others lay in that house three or four 
days. Some were lying in the yards. There were 170 I believe 
all told. It was on the fourth day, I think, that I with some 
others was moved out into the rear and placed in a little tent. 
Six men lay in the tent, and the six men had had seven legs 
amputated. We were lying on a rough board floor; not a rag 
of clothing on; a thin rubber blanket between our bruised and 
bleeding bodies and the liard floor; a single blanket to cover 
our nakedness. I was specially favored by reason of the fact 
that I had a piece of board about as long as your arm set up 
slanting for a pillow. We were prisoners of war. Our captors 
had next to nothing to eat themselves, and we if possible had 



CAMF AND FIELD. 317 

less than they. The Virginia sun poured down itis intense heat. 
Hunger, thirst, flies, maggots, and all the horrible accompani- 
ments were there. A very few men had been left behind to 
try and take some sort of care of us, but their numbers were 
sadly deficient. We lay there one day moaning for water, and 
there was none to bring it to us. Just at the entrance to our tent 
lay a poor fellow who was terribly wounded in the left side, 
mortally wounded as it proved to be. He was a stranger to us 
and we to him, but it has always seemed to me since, that that 
man, in spirit at least, was a descendant, and an honored one, 
of the most gallant knight of old. He heard our moans. 
Water he could not bring us, but, looking over the greensward 
and out beyond under the trees, he saw there lay some worm- 
eaten apples that had dropped from the branches overhead. 
Every movement must have been agony unendurable to that 
man, and yet he clutched at the grass and dragged himself 
along inch by inch until at last he was within reach of the apples. 
Picking them from the ground he placed them in the pocket of 
his blouse, and then, rolling himself around to keep his sound 
side on the grass, dragged himself back until he lay again at 
the entrance to our tent. He reached out the apples one by 
one, and as I lay nearest the entrance I took them from his 
hand and passed them along until each one of my unfortunate 
comrades had one. I had just set my teeth in the last one he had 
handed to me, and it tasted to me at that moment sweeter than 
the nectar of the gods could have done, when I heard an ago- 
nized moan at my right, and turning quickly I saw this good 
Samaritan with his hands clutching, his eyes rolling. He was 
in the agonies of death. A moment more ai>d it was all over 
for him on this side of the Great River. That is all. I never 
knew even his name. In some home they may mourn him yet 
as missing. Perhaps his bones have been gathered up and in 
some of our cemeteries they are interred under the designation, 
"Unknown." What that man's past life had been, I know not. 
It may have been wild, and his speech may have been rough. I 
know that he was unkempt, unshaven, his clothes soiled with 
dirt and stained with blood; not at all such a picture as you 
would welcome, at first sight, into your parlor, or at your 
dining table. But this I have often thought, that in that 
last act of his he exhibited so much of what I consider the 
purely Christ-like attribute, that in the day when you and I 



318 



CAMP AND FIELD o 



shall stand before the just Judge, to be judged for what we 
have been and not for what we may have pretended to be, I 
would much rather take my chances in the place of a man who 
had so large an idea of practical Christianity, than in the 
place of many more pretentious persons I am acquainted with, 

I am, sir, very truly yours, James Tanner. 



a^S^-^J 




^S^vS 



HOW IT SEEMS TO KILL A MAN. 



GENERAL MANDERSON, OF NEBRASKA. 



1^1 HE first man I killed was before 
^^ Richmond, when McCIellan was 
) in command. I was doing picket 
J duty late one night near the bank 
of a creek, and had been cautioned to 
be specially watchful, as an attack was 
expected. I carried my musket half- 
cocked, and was startled by every rustle 
the wind made among the trees and 
dead leaves. It was some time after 
midnight that I saw a Confederate 
cavalryman dashing down the opposite 
side of the creek in my direction. As 
he was opposite I fired upon the horse 
and it fell. The cavalryman regained 
his feet in a moment and had drawn 
his pistols. I called him to surrender, 
but his only reply was a discharge from 
each revolver, one bullet inflicting a 
flesh wound in my arm. Then I let 



him have it full in the breast. He 
leaped three feet in the air, and fell 
with his face down. I knew I had fin- 
ished him. I ran and jumped across 
the creek, picked him up and laid him 
on his back. The blood was running 
out of his nose and mouth, and poured 
in a torrent from the ragged hole in his 
breast. In less time than it takes to 
tell it, he was dead, without having said 
a word. Then my head began to swim, 
and I was sick at my stomach. I was 
overcome by an indescribable horror of 
the deed I had done. I trembled all 
over, and felt faint and weak. It was 
with the greatest difficulty that I man- 
aged to get into camp. There they 
laughed at me, but it was weeks before 
my nervous system had recovered from 
the shock. 




i^~^^^ 



CONFEDERATE MONEY. 



^^*^HE Confederate government did 
W^ not lack for money. In 1861 it 
"^ S^ issued $100,000,000, and until the 
last ye^r of the war continued to send 
out bills of every convenient denomina- 
tion, from iPlOOO to 25 cents. There 
were green five-cent postage stamps, 
with profile of Jefferson Davis on them, 
and these were sometimes used in mak- 
ing "change," but the man who did it 
was always pitied as a penurious, ras- 
cally fellow. Confederate money is 
handsome. Of course the paper is in- 
ferior, but some of the designs are well 
executed. It has a blue back, on which 
are intricate curves and circles and 
curls, and its value is denoted by a 
single word in letters an inch and a 
half tall. There is no uniformity in 
the designs. On some bills there will 
l>e imaginary heads and sketches, a 
woman, a pile of arms, a rush to battle. 
On others appear likenesses of Confed- 
erate heroes and Confederate state 
houses, — as Jefferson Davis on the fif- 
ties, and Alexander H. Stephens on the 
twenties; the Xashville, Tenn., state 
house on the tens, and the Richmond, 
Va., state house on the fives. The face 
of Confederate money is colored pink 
around the likenesses. The first bills 
were simple notes, payable in six 
montlis. The second and all subse- 
quent issues were made payable at dif- 
ferent times " after a ratification of 
a treaty of peace between the Confed- 
erate States of America and the United 
States." 



Confederate money was not long in 
going below par. During the war it 
was not the extortion of merchants 
which ran up prices to fabulous figures, 
but? it was the depreciation of the cur- 
rency. In some sections calico sold for 
ten dollars a yard, good shoes at eighty 
and one hundred dollars a pair. Fifteen 
dollars would purchase a spool of thread 
or a paper of pins. Medicines and all 
luxuries were not in the market for 
that sort of paper. A silver dollar was 
worth at least thirty Confederate dol- 
lars. The Confederacy understood that 
it had to protect its currency as well as 
its rights, and an act was passed mak- 
ing it treason for moneys to be ex- 
changed at different values. 

There has never been a craze among 
the curiosity collectors for Confederate 
money. The flOOO bill is scarce, and 
readily finds buyers at two or three 
dollars each ; the .f .500 bill can be bought 
for twenty or thirty cents ; the other 
denominations can be had for a song. 
Soon after the war men and women 
began to know for a certainty that their 
money was valuable only as paper. 
The ingenious housewives began to use 
it as money never before was used. 
They would paper their walls with old 
journals and periodicals, and put on a 
border made of Confederate money. 
Screens were made of bonds witli 
money borders — in fact, everything 
susceptible of ornamentation received 
its supply of paste and pink treasury 
notes. 



Siege of Knoxville. 



ATTACK UPON FORT SAUNDERS. 

NOVEMBER '29, 1863. 

Deeds of Heroism and Bravery Rarely if Ever Surpassed. 



GENERAL LONGSTREET COMPELLED TO FLEE FOR SAFETY. 

CAPT. CHAS. W. -VVALTON. 



[HE Confederate commander knew well that unless the 
/^^V^ place was soon reduced and our little army captured, 
y^ all hope of regaining East Tennessee would be lost, so 
the final attempt was made on Sunday, the 29th of No- 
vember, and the rebel troo])s' 
courage was raised to the high- 
est pitch, at the assurance of 
their leader that they should 
dine in Knoxville on that day. 
That Burnside had a voice in 
this matter I will presently 
show. 

Sunday came, and in a few 
hours Longstreet and his brave 
men were expecting to dine in 
Knoxville. The church bells 
had ceased ringing for morn- 
ing service, prayers were as- 
cending for continued protec- 







tion from different altars, while in the Episcopal church a 
hearty response came forth, "Good Lord, deliver us," as the 
minister read from the Litany, " From all assaults of the 
enemy, from battle and murder, and from sudden death." 



CAMP AND FIELD. 321 

Hardly had the benedictions been pronounced in the churches 
before the '' assault of the enemy " was made, and Fort Saun- 
ders, made strong by every available means known to the 
engineer's profession, was the point assailed. 

Benjamin's and Buckley's favorite batteries of six guns each 
were mounted in the openings on solid floorings, the trees were 
€ut down in the immediate front, and, by an ingenious plan of 
Lieutenant Benjamin's, thick wires were stretched from stump 
to stump about knee-high to trip the enemy as they approached, 
while a deep ditch, almost impossible to leap over, encircled the 
fort. It was a sad scene, those rebel troops hurled against such 
a tower of strength, for we felt certain it could only end in dis- 
aster to them. 

Across the railroad, up the gentle slope, and through the 
stumps they came, while our guns were making havoc among 
their ranks. On they came, never faltering, with that well- 
known yell; the stumps that the wires were attached to are 
reached, and down they fall amid charges of grape and can- 
ister, while the steady fire of the infantry from the adjoining 
rifle-pits, although destructive, did not deter them from rushing 
forward. They filled the ditch, and every foot of ground gave 
evidence of their great courage. Lighted shells with short 
fuses and hand grenades were thrown over in the ditch, and in 
another moment through the smoke we discovered another 
brigade closed en masse rushing on to meet the same fate. Our 
guns opened on them with renewed vigor. Yells mingled with 
groans filled the air as they fell. and. unable to stand such a 
scorching fire, they broke and fled to the rear; the few who 
returned were truly fortunate. One or two leaped the ditch, 
climbed the parapet, and planted the colors on our fort, but it 
was only for a moment, as they were instantly hauled in by our 
men. Such deeds of heroism are rare, and we could not help 
but admire their pluck as they were marched off as prisoners of 
war. 

Before the smell of powder and smoke had passed away, I, 
with a few others, passed out of the fort, over the ditt;h on a 
plank, and looked on that scene of slaughter. Such a spectacle 
I never want to witness again! Men literally torn to pieces lay 
all around — some in the last throes of death, others groaning, 
and their faces distorted under the severe pains from their 
ghastly wounds. Arms and legs, torn from their bodies, lay 



322 CAMP AND FIELD 

scattered around, wliile at every footstep we trod in pools of 
blood. The ground also was strewn with split guns, bayonets, 
and equipments, not to speak of hats and boots. Over a hundred 
dead bodies were taken from the ditch alone, while vast num- 
bers of wounded were being carefully carried within the lines 
to receive the best of care in our hospitals. Three hundred 
prisoners fell into our hands, representing eleven regiments, 
and it was evident that the enemy had met with a fearful loss, 
wliile ours was comparatively slight. 

A flag of truce having been granted the enemy until five 
o'clock, burial parties were sent out, and for an hour or two 
they were busy burying their dead, who were laid in rows and 
covered over with the soil. At the appointed time the signal 
gun from the fort was fired, the truce was at an end, and Fort 
Saunders resumed its work. 

This was Longstreet's last attempt to dine in Knoxville, and 
when he heard that General Sherman was coming to our aid 
with 55,000 men, he at once decided to raise the siege, pass on 
to Virginia, and join Lee. 

Thus ended the siege of Knoxville, after a period of six 
weeks, and, in a few days after, that section of the country was 
again free from the presence of the enemy. 



First Battery, Tort Gibson. 



'ISTORY will accord to the 56th 
Ohio, and Slth Ind. Regt.'s the 
capture of the first battery at the battle 
of Port Gibson, and consequently the 
first victory of the Vicksburg campaign, 
under the orders of Col. James B. 
Slack, commanding 2d Brigade, 2d Di- 
vision, 13th Army Corps. 



Capturing: New Orleans. 

JXt>^nRAL PORTER says that h") 
"^ was the first to ui-ge upon the author- 
ities at Washington the importance of 
opening the lower Mississippi, and cap- 
turing Xew Orleans, and that it was he 
who suggested that Admiral Farragut 
be selected to connnaud the naval ex- 
pedition. 



•I-T=S 



l.'j^^S^*^- 



^©gaRg Brouer^ at KemegQOJ. 



VETERAN. 



fWAS with General Logan all 
through the war, and in all that 
time I never saw him shrink 
in battle. While the battle of 
Kenesaw Mountain was in progress I 
saw Logan ride at full speed in front 
of our lines when the bullets seemed to 
fall thioker than hail. Bare-headed, 
powder-stained, and his long, black 
hair floating in the breeze, the general 
looked like a mighty conqueror of 
inediseval days. He did not know what 
danger was. Standing upright in the 
stirrups of his saddle I have seen him 
plunge to the head of a charging col- 



umn and bury himself in the smoke 
and flame of the enemy's guns. A few 
moments before the good McPherson 
fell at Atlanta, a shell burst within 
twenty feet of General Logan. Turn- 
ing to McPherson, who had been slightly 
stunned by tlie explosion, Logan coolly 
remarked : — 

" General, they seem to be popping 
that corn for us." 

Twenty minutes later McPherson lay 
bleeding on the field, while Logan, who 
had assumed command of the troops, 
was hurling his battalions against the 
enemy with the skill of a born soldier. 



First Shot at dJettysbnrg-. 



'*¥''HE battle of Gettysburg was begun 
by Archer's Tennessee Brigade 
striking a part of General Reynolds's 
Corps. 



MEDALS OF HONOR. 



SIGNS OF TREASON. 



Tip' HE first occasion of the presentation 
of Medals of Honor to enlisted men 
in the Army of the Potomac, occurred 
September 15, 1864, when medals were 
presented to Sergeant John Shilling, 
Co. H, 3d Del. Regt. ; Private T. C. 
Anderson, Co. H, 18th Mass. Regt., 
and Private George H. Reed, Co. E, 
11th Penn. Vols. 



■^^IIE first instance (said the Rich- 
mond Examiner) of the surrender 
of any post, large or small, by a Con- 
federate ofiicer to the enemy, in which 
the marks and signs of treason were 
unmistakable, was the surrender of 
Fort Gaines, Mobile Bay, to Admiral 
Farragut, by Col. Charles Anderson of 
the 21st Ala. Rest. 



Reminiscences of General Opdycke. 

A CONFEDERATE CAPTAIN SHOT ON HIS OWN DOORSTEP. 

J. D. REMINGTON, Company I, 73d ininois. 



x^^"\.v^^:^.VvX\^x^^■v^w\\xvi 




EN. E. OPDYCKE was a man that all the boys of the 
■i^ 1st Brigade, 2d Division, 4th Corps, learned to love, — 
and as brave as the bravest. I well remember that the 
1st Brigade had been the rear-guard all day on Novem- 
ber 30, 1864. It skirmished with the rebels from Spring Hill to 
Franklin, Tenn,, and when we got to Franklin the works were 
full of the troops which had marched in ahead of us. We 
were ordered to the rear and told to get our supper, for it was 
late — near sundown. We soon got supper, for we knew we 
would not have long to stay, as Hood was forming to charge 
and we could see his troops preparing for it. Some of us did 
not get an opportunity to eat before we were ordered to fall in, 
I had a tin can of coffee and a slice of pork, but not the time to 
eat it then. I handed the can of coffee to a comrade, and we 
were soon in line, awaiting orders. When the enemy made the 
charge and drove the troops out of the works on the turnpike, 
in front of Carters house. Major Motherspan gave this com- 
mand: "73d, fix bayonets and charge!"' We did so, and the 
rest of the brigade with the 73d gave a yell, and we all charged 
at the same time, General Opdycke in the lead. We all w^ent 
in — even Major-General Stanley, commanding the corps. As 
he rode past us gome one near me yelled out, in the language of 
Marmion, "On! Stanley, on!" I wonder if General Stanley 
remembers the incident, for he raised his hat and said, " Come 
on, boys!" 

I wish to say a word about Captain Carter, of the Confederate 
army. It was not a hundred yards from his house that he was 
killed, but on his own doorstep. Carter's house was inside of our 
lines. The enemy had charged and got inside our lines and 



CAMP AND FIELD. 325 

Carter had almost got to the house, when a comrade at my side 
ordered him to surrender. His reply was, "I will die first I" 
This comrade told me in case he missed the Johnny I was to 
shoot at him. My comrade fired and the rebel kept running 
towards the house. I raised my 16-shooter and fired, and as he 
got to the door he fell. From some of the boys who were 
wounded and captured we learned afterwards that Carter fell 
dead on his doorstep with two bullets in him. Truly did he 
come home to die! Gen. Pat Cleburne rode at the head of his 
troops. His horse was killed on our works, and, as the horse 
fell, Cleburne pitched headlong into our works, mortally 
wounded. He died in about ten minutes. He fell near the 
cotton-gin, east of the pike. General Cleburne's home was in 
Nashville. Carter's house was on the west side of the pike. 
At the beginning of the fight the 73d lay west of the pike, but 
was crowded to the east. At the time Cleburne was killed the 
73d lay on both sides of the pike. The 1st Brigade captured 
thirteen rebel fiags, instead of ten. General Opdycke cZ/rf fight 
with the men, and the men loved and honored him. After we 
got to Nashville, and were wandering around in the rain look- 
ing for a place to camp, some of the boys tore some boards off 
of a fence. The man who owned the place — an old, crippled- 
up butternut — told General Opdycke about it and wanted him 
to stop them, to which the general replied: " Go in the house 
and shut your mouth, or I will turn my brigade loose on you. 
They are heroes, every one of them! Look at those thirteen 
rebel flags they captured at Franklin last night." The old man 
went in the house and said no more to Opdycke. 



Butler's Conimaud. First Officer Escaped from "Libby." 



'♦JP'HE first to designate General But- 'CJP'HE first officer that made his escape 
ler's command as tlie "Army of from Libby Prison was Captain 

the James," is said to have been Qiiar- Skelton, of the 17th Iowa Regt. Ha 

termaster-General Ingalls. was twice captured and twice escaped. 



m 




.c^- 



'fie Fort Piirooj (|}esse(Bre. 

APRIL 12, 1864. 
BY THE PILOT OF THE "NEW ERA." 



PRIL, 1864, I was a pilot on the United States gunboat 
New Era, of the Mississippi squadron, and was patrolling 
the Mississippi river in the vicinity of Fort Pillow, 
which was situated on a bluff on the east side of the river, some 
forty-five miles above Memphis, Tenn, 

The fort was built of logs and dirt, with port-holes for mus- 
ketry and artillery. It was not considered formidable, but 
with the assistance of one or more gunboats, it was thought to 
be strong enough to repel any ordinary force. Its artillery 
consisted of three eighteen-pound guns. It was garrisoned by 
colored troops principally, and was commanded by two as 
brave officers as ever fought a battle, namely, Majors Booth and 
Bradford. 

On the 10th of April, 1864, Major Booth received news from 
Memphis that Forrest, with a division of cavalry, was coming 
with a purpose to attack the fort. The orders were to hold 
the fort at all hazards, and he communicated the same to Cap- 
tain Marshall, who commanded the United States gunboat New 
Era, which was lying there at that time. The cavalry kept 
constantly on the lookout until the evening of the 11th, when 
Forrest's advance was reported within six miles. 

At 6 A. M., on the 12th of April, General Chalmers's brigade at- 
tacked and drove in the pickets, and our gunboat was called 
into action. Captain Marshall took position in the pilot-house 
to communicate with the fort and to direct our fire. They were 
in plain sight, four hundred to six hundred yards distant from our 
boat, forming a half circle around the fort. They opened fire 
with musketry, their artillery not having yet arrived. At 6.30 
the gunboat began firing, using fuse shell with terrible effect. 
The artillery of the fort opened with canister, shot, and shell. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 327 

making dreadful havoc in their ranks, and causing them to 
temporarily disperse. During the lull in the fight Major Booth 
ordered all inside the fort, and directed that all tents outside 
should be burned, in order that the view of the garrison might 
be unobstructed. It was while setting fire to a tent that he fell, 
mortally wounded. Major Bradford then assumed command. 
He, too, was a brave officer. The quartermaster of the fort 
refused to go into the fort, but went into a log house contain- 
ing commissary stores situated near the river — and remained 
there. This house was burned with the quartermaster in it, 
and his charred remains were found the following day while 
we were gathering and burying our dead. The fort, with the 
assistance of the gunboat, kept the rebels at a safe distance 
until ten o'clock, when Forrest arrived with a four-pound gun, 
with which he opened on the gunboat and struck the pilot- 
house two glancing " licks."' Captain Marshall and I were both 
severely stunned, and just as soon as the captain could get his 
breath he ordered me to "sheer off," but when the second shot 
struck he scooped down the ladder and shouted back to me to 
take care of the boat. Observing that the farther out into the 
river we got the better range they had on us, I brought the 
boat in close to shore, where they could not depress their artil- 
lery sufficiently to hit us. The rebel sharpshooters had by this 
time cleared the upper deck, and I was the only person able to 
see what was going on. Captain Marshall ordered me to direct 
the firing, which I did quite successfully, silencing the rebel 
battery. 

About twelve o'clock, Forrest sent a flag of truce to the fort, 
which I reported to Captain Marshall, who ordered me to come 
to anchor. I ran the boat within speaking distance of the fort 
and anchored. We had been there about forty-five minutes 
when the flag returned to the rebel lines. During this time 
about two hundred rebels came down to the quartermaster's 
house and dressed themselves in Federal uniform, and then re- 
turned to their own line — all of which I reported to Captain 
Marshall, and insisted that he should open on them, for they 
were violating a truce that they themselves had asked for. 
But no; he would not do it; he said he was bound to respect a 
flag of truce. Another flag of truce was presently sent to the 
fort, and, at the same time the rebels— part in Federal uniform 
— got so close to the fort that it hid them from my sight. Im- 

19 



o28 CAMP AND FIELD. 

mediately after the flag had disappeared from my sight, the 
rebels came pouring over the works into the fort with a volley 
of musketry and a rebel yell, and Major Bradford immediately 
surrendered. The flag of the fort was taken down, by the 
rebels and firing ceased. In about three or four minutes the 
rebels rehoisted the flag and then a general slaughter ensued. 
Major Bradford, with all his living soldiers, ran down the blufl 
and jumped into the river and tried to swim to our boat, but 
the most of them were shot in the water and disappeared from 
view. Major Bradford, although the rebel bullets struck the 
water all about him, was not injured, and being assured by a 
rebel officer that if he would come ashore he would be treated 
as a prisoner of war, he did so. 

By this time the surgeon, the nurses, and the wounded had 
all been slaughtered at the hospital tent and the firing ceased. 
The gunboat was still lying at anchor, within four hundred 
yards of the fort, and in plain view of the artillery in it, with- 
out a possibility of being reached by the rebel four-pounder. 
Our armor was proof against musketry, and, as Ensign Charles 
E. Schetkey informed me, the boat had plenty of ammunition 
for several such fights left. Nevertheless, Captain Marshall 
ordered the boat gotten under way and headed up stream, and 
the order was promptly obeyed. The rebels thought to make 
short work of us, for as soon as we got in range of the guns in the 
fort, they fired three shots, all of which struck very close to us. 
As the rest of the ammunition for the guns was concealed in 
the bluff, where they could not find it, they were unable to con- 
tinue the fire. It was a narrow escape, for had the boat been 
crippled we should have become an easy prey to the merciless 
rebels. 

At that time, of all the troops that occupied the fort at the 
beginning of the battle. Major Bradford and Captain Young 
were the only ones alive! 

It was 4 p. M. when we left the fort, and we did not come to 
anchor until midnight, having made about thirty miles. On 
our way up we took the wife of Captain Young aboard. April 
13, at 7 a. m., we started back for the fort, arriving at 10.30 a. 
M. We found Chalmers's brigade under a flag of truce — Forrest, 
with his force, having left immediately after the slaughter. 
Captain Young was permitted to come aboard on his parole to 
dine with his wife. He said Chalmers had told him that Major 



CAMP AND FIELD. 329 

Bradford bad forfeited his parole, and if caught would suffer 
death. Captain Young, at the time, believed the report. I 
then accompanied a detachment of the crew which bad been 
detailed to bury our dead, and a horrible sight awaited us. 
The first body we found was the charred remains of the quar- 
termaster, lying in the burned wreck of the house, and on the 
bluff we fecund many dead Union soldiers who had been burned 
in their tents. We buried these and passed on to the fort. 
There we found tliat the rebels had stripped the dead and robbed 
them of valuables, and had thrown them into the ditch and 
partially covered them. After tarrying there we went under 
the bluff where the hospital tent had stood. There we found 
about seventy dead Federals. These men had been sent to the 
tent to have their wounds dressed. Imagine, if you can, our 
feelings while contemplating this horrible butchery. 

Major Bradford, we learned from a citizen, had been shot 
that morning in the latter's dooryard by the order of General 
Chalmers, because he commanded negro soldiers. He told us 
that the major had pleaded hard for mercy, claiming the priv- 
ileges of a prisoner of war and declaring that he had only done 
his duty as a soldier. But no mercy was shown, although he 
had surrendered with the understanding that he was to be treated 
as a prisoner of war. After the massacre the wife of Major 
Booth desired to recover his body, and a detachment of soldiers 
went up from Memphis to recover it for her. They found a 
grave under the bluff marked "Major Booth." but on opening 
it they found the body of a negro. Major Booth's body was 
never found. 



First Military Organization. Confederate General Killed. 



■CfHE Ringgold Light Artillery, of V^BE first Confederate General killed 
Reading, Pa., claim to have been in the war was General Garnett, 

the first military organization to pre- killed at the battle of Rich Mountain 

pare for the war, and the first to tender in 1861. He is said to have been killed 

their services to General Scott for the by private John Manson, 16th Ohio In- 

defense'of the National Capital. fantry. 



?-? 



GENERAL THOMAS; 

The Gunboat that Did Great Service at Decatur* 

G. NORTON, Essex, Vt. 




►HEN the rebel General Hood started back for Nash- 
ville I commanded the gunboat " General Thomas," 
on the Tennessee river, and v^as stationed on the 
'*' first sixty miles above Decatur, where we had sup- 
plies for the army commanded by General Granger. I had on 
board some of General Thomas's scouts, whom I would land at 
dark with one of my officers, Cassius M. Booth, who volun- 
teered to help reconnoiter the rebel movements, so as to give 
General Thomas information of where Hood intended to cross 
the river. After a long week of sleepless nights our scouts 
brought the news that Hood was on the march down the river, 
and we soon heard the roar of his cannon attacking Decatur. 
I was lightening the ship to get over the shoal when dispatches 
arrived from General Thomas to go to Decatur as fast as possi- 
ble, and thanking me for information sent in the morning. As 
I had to land our coal, and (after we got over the shoal water) 
take on rails for fuel, it was 4 p. m. before we reached the bend 
four miles above Decatur, where we met an army transport, the 
captain of which told me that we could not go down there, for 
Hood's whole army was posted along the banks; in fact they 
commenced to fire on us as he was reporting to me. I simply 
said: '' Captain, I am ordered by General Thomas to go to Gen- 
eral Granger's assistance, and lam going. A^ou follow me!" I 
also said: " A man has one chance during life, and this is ours! " 
I ordered full steam, and told the engineer all depended on 
our clean heels, and down past Hood's army we went, close 
to the bank, at the rate of fifteen or twenty miles an hour, 
and we stirred up a nest of hornets. The whole bank was ablaze, 
but, flying past them so rapidly, they did not keep our range, and 
in about the time it takes to write it we were past all the rebels, 
heading up stream in front of General Grangers works. We 
soon silenced Hood's lower earthworks. I reported to General 
Granger on top of the large brick house, north of the town. The 



CAMP AND FIELD. 331 

general said to me, '' Captain, if you had been sent from heaven 
you couldn't have come more opportune, for all my outer works 
are taken! '' While I was at General Granger s side one of his 
aides reported that the enemy had ceased firing, and seemed to 
be moving down the river. Hood says in his report that " the 
enemy having at 1 p. m. received re-enforcements of his gun- 
boats, I deemed it would cost too dearly to force a crossing 
at this point." Our prompt action saved our valuable stores 
from falling into the enemy's hands. Those stores were just 
what the Johnnies needed, for the poor fellows were in a sorry 
condition. We captured and paroled many a one of them 
when they came back after their failure at Nashville. They 
had awful long faces, and said, "But for your miserable gun- 
boats we would have whipped you."' After the fight all was 
quiet as we lay at anchor. We were expecting a good night's 
sleep, which we all needed, when, about 8 p. m., orders came 
from General Granger to proceed up the river four miles to 
Limestone creek, where it was reported the rebs were getting 
ready to cross the river. We weighed anchor and obeyed 
orders; found everything dark and still, — no sign of an enemy, 
— and I anchored close over under the thick underbrush on the 
north side of the river. All hands lay down by their guns. I 
was lying on my berth, when, about midnight, there came a 
volley of small arms, the balls rattling against the inch-iron 
like hail, and I sang out, " Give 'em the broadside," and the 
eight-inch guns, loaded with grape and canister, blazed away. 
The way those bushes rattled was a caution. When the report 
of our guns died away we could hear cavalry galloping down 
the river. What it all meant we could not tell, as we supposed 
no enemy had crossed the river. About an hour after the 
mystery was cleared up by the arrival of one of General 
Granger's staff officers, who said this cavalry had come in on 
the train after dark, and were ordered up the river to see what 
was going on. The country was new to them, and all sorts of 
stories being afloat of what had become of the rebs, of course 
they crept up carefully, and at last got the outlines of a black 
something on the water. Of course, our lights were all shut in 
with closed ports, so they took a shot at us. Tliey must have 
opened their e3^es when up went our ports, showing lights at 
quarters. Lucky for them they were so far astern before we 
fired, or somebody would have got hurt. 



FORAGING. 



-f An Interesting Trip After Rations in the Heart of South Carolina. 4- 

FRED REITZ, Company I, 21st Wisconsin. 



WILL tell of a foraging trip that about forty of us made 
while on our march through South Carolina. On the morning 
after we reached the Catawba river at Rocky Mount ford, 
four from every company were detailed, under command of 
a lieutenant, to go ahead foraging. We crossed the pontoon 
bridge and took the road leading towards Lancaster Court House 
which some of our squad took on their own hook, and we did not 
see them again for a week. The greater number remained Avith 
the lieutenant and we stopped the first night at a plantation 
belonging to some rich planter. The fine brick mansion had 
been burned, and the inmates were stopping at the house of the 
overseer. On the next morning we came to the home of Colonel 
Macllwain, formerly a captain in the United States Light 
Horse Dragoons, but then a colonel in the rebel army. Here 
we found a fine plantation with nice buildings, but nearly 
everything gone except some sweet potatoes and a little bacon; 
but we learned that all their valuables, such as clothing and 
jewelry, and also their smoked meat, had been buried. About 
noon, we saw a negro going across the land, and, in order to 
bring him in. shot at him. He soon came, and on being asked 
where the meat was buried, said he had been absent when it was 
done and did not know; but we did not believe him and made 
him agree to show us. He soon led the way into the woods, 
and showed us the spot, where we found a large box put into 
the ground, filled with hams and shoulders, which we carried 
to the house. There were with us a couple of Winnebago 
Indians, belonging to the 21st Wis., who had found a large 
sack of corn meal, a wagon, and two neck-yokes in the woods. 



CAMP AND FIT^.LD odvi 

We liitcho'l two yoke of cattle to the wagon, which we loaded 
up with our pnjvisions, and we proceeded on further to a little 
mill about a mile from Lancaster Court House. Here we found 
jjlenty of corn, and some of the boys went to work to imt the 
mill in running order, Comrade John King, of the 21st Wis., 
acting as miller. We got all the negroes to work shelling corn, 
and myself, being a tailor, made a number of sacks out of 
sheets brought to me by some of the boys. The mill ground 
very slow, being one of those one-horse concerns, and we staid 
two days, during which time we got about thirty bushels of meal. 
Another yoke of cattle was found and secured, making three 
yokes. On the second day some of the boys came back from a 
scout and brought twenty-two chickens and one goose, which 
were cleaned, and, being something of a cook, I boiled the chick- 
ens in a big soup kettle and baked Mrs. Goose in a bake kettle. 
General Kilpatrick was then at Lancaster with his cavalry, 
and being ready to proceed onward, sent us word to make for 
our commands. In the morning our lieutenant had left us for 
the purpose of finding out when our corps (the 14th) w^ould 
come up and on which road. In the afternoon we held a con- 
sultation with some of the mounted foraging parties, who had 
come after us and were also grinding corn, as to our remaining 
over night, and they agreed to remain, but afterwards changed 
their minds and left. I then insisted on our also leaving and 
making our way towards the main road to Cheraw, for which 
place I had learned that our corfjs was heading. Several of our 
squad were determined to stay another night, as we had a 
good time, plenty to eat, and a dry place to sleep. Our ser- 
geant, who had been left in command, was also inclined to stay 
inasmuch as he expected our lieutenant back, but I fjointed 
out the probability of getting captured by Wheeler's cavalry, 
who were near Lancaster — only a couple of miles away. The 
question now arose which way we should go, and as I had a 
piece of a map of South Carolina, I pointed out to the sergeant 
the road for us to take to strike the main road, on which our 
left wing was coming. Just about dark we started with our 
wagon, drawn by three yoke of cattle, with a rear guard. 
About twelve o'clock at night we came to a f)lantation, where 
we found some more of Sherman's bummers, and we concluded 
to stop for the night, and, after posting some pickets down the 
road, the rest of us went to bed — some in the house, some in 



334 CAMP AND FIELDo 

the fence corners, others in the negro cabins. In the morning- 
we saw a small house standing a little way from the mansion, 
and found its occupant to be a rebel soldier — a young man with 
a verj^ pretty and young looking wife. She was the daughter 
of the planter. The rebel had been wounded in front of Peters- 
burg, and was home on a furlough. To show j^ou that even 
Sherman's bummers respected the soldier who was manfully 
fighting us in front, I will say that nothing had been disturbed 
around his little home; even his chickens were left untouched. 
I asked him and his pretty little wife if she would not cook us a 
nice dinner and spread the table. She replied that they had very 
little in the house to cook a good meal of. I had carried on my 
gun a ham to bring to my own squad in the company, but I 
went and got it, gave her some coffee, meal, sweet pota- 
toes, sugar, etc., and we had a very enjoyable dinner together, 
and when we left in the afternoon the young couple had a 
much better idea of Sherman's Yankees. The next morning 
our division, which had been delayed on account of the terribly 
bad roads, came along, under the command of General Carlin, 
and we took our places in our companies and our train joined 
the division train, having been gone from the command eight 
days. 

THE TREE OF DEATH. 

(Frovi the Athxiita Coiistitntiofi.) 

fN the New Hope battle field was a out and fire. Confederate sharpshooters 

tree upon which the soldiers nailed went along the Confederate line for 

the inscription, " Tree of Death." Sev- nearly a mile in each direction, and then 

era! Federals were killed behind the being so far from the side of the tree that 

tree by Confederate sharpshooters. The they could see behind it, by a cross firing 

tree was in advance of the Federalline, made it as dangerous to stand behind 

and was about three hundred yards the tree as to stand in front of it. Seven 

from the Confederate works. It was Federals were killed behind the tree, 

used by Federal skirndshers, who would and it came to be known as the " Tree 

stand behind it and load, and then step of Death." 



Rainbow Bluff, North Carolina. 

A REBEL COLONEL'S CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT. 



By W. F>. DERBY, 2 7th Nlass. 



lECEMBER, 1864, an expedition left Plymouth, N. C, with 
Rainbow Bluff and Tarboro as its objective point. The 
force consisted of the 27th Mass., 9th N, J,, 17Gth Penn., 
detachments of the IGth Conn., 85th N. Y., 12th N. Y. Cavalry, 
2d Mass. Heavy Artillery, and Battery A, 3d N. Y. Artillery, 
the latter armed with muskets. This last force under Captain 
Russell, was temporarily attached to the 27th Mass. , under Col. 
W. G. Bartholomew. This force under Col. Jones Frankle left 
Plymouth December 9th, and after several light engagements, 
reached the vicinity of Rainbow Bluff at midnight the 12th. 
At this point the enemy contested the advance so warmly that 
it was concluded they were present in force. It was decided to 
attempt to flank this force, and if possible get to their rear and 
capture them; and this work was assigned to the 9th N. J. and 
the 27th Mass. Regts. This work was quite to their taste; and 
after more than three years' service — much of the time in the 
same brigade — it is not too much to say that they had un- 
bounded confidence in each other. 

The night was bitter cold; the ground frozen and rough, and 
the water froze in the canteens. The moon threw a flood of 
light, requiring great care and secrecy to prevent discovery. 
The way lay to the right across wooded fields, some of the time 
through a deep dry ditch, then through a ravine shaded by 
overhanging cliffs to a stream over which the bridge had been 
destroyed. The stream was a roaring torrent, at flood height, 
but by the aid of floodwood and brush lodged against the pier a 
crossing was effected. As the column neared Fort Branch 
upon the bluff the sky became heavily clouded so that we 
passed it and reached the Hamilton road without opposition. 



336 CAMP AM) FIKLI). 

As the column reached this road it was discovered by Colonel 
Hinton, commander of the post. Thinking we were re-enforce- 
ments Colonel Hinton mounted his horse and rode up to Cap- 
tain Russell, who was at the rear of the 27th, and accosted him, 
"Good morning, Captain I never so glad to see any one in my 
life; ■' then turning to the men said, " Had a pretty rough jaunt, 
hain't you, boys?" There was not enough of light to discern 
colors, but Captain Russell scented the fun and replied, "Good 
morning! colonel is just ahead and wants to see you/' Reach- 
ing Colonel Bartholomew, Hinton extended his hand saying, 
"Good morning, colonel! Justin time! There's fun ahead!'* 
Colonel Bartholomew had walked just far enough to particularly 
admire the gray steed before him, and besides, he had a con- 
siderable bump for good horses. He grasped Colonel Hinton's 
hand and the horse's bits most affectionately and responded, 
"Ah! Good morning! I'm awful glad to see you! You may get 
off that horse; you won't need it any longer, as you are my 
prisoner!" "Wha— what!'' exclaimed the astonished rebel 
officer. "What regiment are you?" "37th Mass.," was the 

prompt reply. "The d 1 you are! I thought you were the 

Weldon Junior Reserves," was the disconsolate rejoinder. 

We had it now; we not only had the commander, but the key 
to the position also; we would be the Weldon Junior Reserves. 
The 9th N. J. was at the front. Advancing to some log bar- 
racks a short distance ahead the sentinel was saluted, "Turn 
out the guard for the Junior Reserves." They came tumbling 
out, disgruntled by the disturbance, and without the firing of a 
gun were seized as prisoners. We were now in the rear of and 
near to the rebel intrenchments. Captain Huft}'-, of the 9th, was 
challenged by two sentinels, but he continued to advance saying 
in a drawling tone, "Come ah-n, boy-es; come ah-n! We uns 
are Weldon Reserves; they uns won't hurt we. Come ah-n!" 
and before the sentinels could decide what to do they too were 
prisoners. It was now reported that there was a body of troops 
approaching from the rear (it was the Junior Reserves), and 
Colonel Stewart, of the 9th N. J., who was in command of our 
force, deployed his troops, the 9th facing the approaching col- 
umn and the 27th Mass. in an opposite direction facing the 
intrenchments, and gave the order " Charge! " The Junior Re- 
serves broke in all directions before the impetuous charge of the 
Jersey boys and the Johnnies abandoned the works before the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 337 

charge of the 27th and took to the woods and a cross road con- 
necting with the Tarboro road. It was expected that the force 
remaining under Colonel Frankle would occupy the intersec- 
tion on the Tarboi-o road, but this they failed to do, so that most 
of the enemy escaped. The result of this movement was the 
capture of Colonel Hinton and 138 prisoners with arms and 
equipments, and the destruction of their barracks. 



OUR SOLDIBRS' ORAVBS. 

MARY B. HOSMER. 



ftVVlNE lovely wreaths to deck the This be our Mecca, where our soldiers 

liouored graves rest 

'"'^^ Wlicre sleep the ashes of our Shield we from impious liands each 

iiol)le dead ; sacred mouud. 
Wreathe the dark laurel, green as ocean 

waves, i5ut not alone to him of high renown 

With reverence place them o'er each -"^hall pasans rise and words of praise 

patriot head. be given ; 

Bring brightest laurels for the dead " un- 

Briiig our loved ensign, o'er them let it known, 

^g^yg AVhose i-ecords, lost to earth, are 

The dear " old flag," beneath whose '^'"'Si'* '" heaven. 

folds they fell ; r,., i • . ^ i • , 

, ,1 ,• ,• ., 1. 1 , J^'is solemn nunute-gun, the warriors 

J>ong may the nation live they died to , ,, 

^ •' •' knell, 

For them is booming over land and 

sea. 

While o'er their graves the winds, that 

^ ,, , .r, J- 1 • sjgb and swell, 

J or the dear sacrince so freely given mi • ,-. i r- , 

,, , . ,, ^- , '■, M- , i heir soit and mourniul requiem 

Here let the nation bow itself and , ,, , 



save, 
Bright be their memory who died so 
well. 



weep 



shall be. 



Gently let fall tears, like dews of heaven, Rg.fc^ .^^j^^, patriots, in your narrow 

Water each mound where our brave l)eds 

patriots sleep. While all about you Nature's voices 

ring. 

Place a white tablet o'er each noble Far brigliter crowns await your noble 

breast, heads 

And let their glowing record there be Than the sweet tributes which we 

found ; hither bring. 



338 CAMP AND FIELD 

The Crutch in thh Corner. 

[Written jiist after the war, by John McIntosh— " Old Vermont."] 



(^(^lOr^HY, Billy, your room is as 
r^^^'j^ cold as the hut 
^>^i cj We had by the swamp and 
river, 
Where we lost our JNIajor, and Tim, 
you know, 
And sixty more with the fever." 
" Well, Tom, old fellow, it's hard 
enough. 
But the best at times knock under ; 
There's ne'er a stick of wood in the 
house 
But that crutch in the corner yonder! 

"Sorry T listed? Don't ask me that, 
Tom ; 
Tf the tlag was again in danger, 
I'd aim the gun with an aching stump 
At tlie foe, were he brother or 
stranger. 
But, I say, ought a wound from a shot 
or shell. 
Or a pistol bullet, by thunder ! 
Porever doom a poor fellow to want. 
With that crutch in the corner 
yonder? 

" That crutch, old comrade, ought ever 
to be ♦ 

A draft at sight on the Nation 
For honor, respect, and a friendly 
hand. 
For clothing, and quarters, and 
rations ! 
My wife — she begs at the Nugget 
House, 
Where the big-bugs live in splendor, 
And brag, o'er their wine, of the fights 
that brought 
Such as that in the corner yonder ! 

" And Charlie — he goes to some place 
up-town 
Some ticket-for-soup arrangement; 
All W'ell enough for a hungry boy. 

But, Tom, it'% effect is estrangement; 
I'd sooner have kicked the bucket 
twice o'er, 
By a shell or ;i round t('n-]tounder, 



Than live such a life as I'm doing now, 
With that crutch in the corner 
yonder. 

" There's ne'er a thing lefl to pawn or 
to sell, 
And the winter ha.s closed on labor; 
This medal is all that is left me now. 
With my pistols and trusty saber; 
And those, by the sunlight above us, 
Tom, 
No power from my trust shall sunder 
Save the One that releases me at last 
From that crutch in the corner 
yonder. 

"I can raise this arm that is left to me 

To the blessed heaven aViove us, 
And swear by the thi-one of the Father 
there, 

And the angels all, who love us. 
That the hand 1 lost and the hand T 
have 

Were never yet stained by plunder. 
And, for love of the dear old Hag, I now 

Use that crutch in the corner yonder. 

" Do I ask too much when I say we boys 

Who fought for the Nation's glory. 
Now that the danger is past and gone, 

In comfort should tell our story? 
How should we have fought when the 
mad shells screamed 
And shivered our ranks, I wonder. 
Had we known our lot would liave been 
to beg, 
With that crutch in the corner 
yonder? 

"There's little we hear of nowadays 

But pardon and reconstruction. 
While the soldier who fought and bled 
for both 
Is left to his own destruction. 
'Twould be well, 1 think, in these 
nipping times. 
For those Congress fellows to ponder. 
And think of us boys who use such 
things 
As that crutch in the corner yonder." 



©lr€^mgt<api®€:g (3 Iter Q&geg. 



W. p. DERBY, 27th Mass. 



;apt. c. d. sanford, of 

^,^^, the 27tli Mass., with fifty 
men, was scouting near Dover, 
N. C, when he discovered a 
small body of the enemy ap- 
proaching. Secreting his force 
in the swamp he awaited their 
approach, but on discovering it 
to be a flag of truce, he, with 
five men, advanced a short dis- 
tance to meet it. The colonel 
in charge of the flag remarked: 
" Captain, this is very unfortu- 
nate; were it not for this flag 
of truce I should have made a 
splendid capture this morn- 
ing!" "Would you? Let's 
see!" replied Captain Sanford. 
" Forward, 27th! " when his 
men debouched from the 
swamp with fixed bayonets. 
"Ah!" responded the colonel; 
"beg your pardon; this alters 
the circumstances!" "Yes," 
retorted Captain S. with a sup- 
pressed laugh, "and circum- 
stances alter cases! " 



Made It for His Own Use. 

August 14, 18G2, an expedi- 
tion reached Swansboro, N. C, 
to destroy the salt works, five 
miles from that place. On 
reaching the works they found 
twenty-five bushels of salt 
ready for the market. The pro- 
prietor begged piteously for 
this, saying he made only a 
little for his own use. He must 
have been an old salt. In spite 
of his pleading the works and 
the salt were destroyed. 

Supported by the 9th N. J. 

A good squib — such as were 
common in soldier life — origi- 
nated upon the battle field of 
Goldsboro, N. C. One of Bel- 
ger's R. I. battery had been 
wounded severely, and when 
approached by a chaplain upon 
the field was asked if he was 
supported by divine grace. 
" No, we were supported by 
the 9th N. J.," was the laconic 
reply. 




HOW GRANT SAVED LEE. 

less. 
He Keeps His Word of Honor and Prevents Stanton from Ordering an Arrest, 

COL. BABBOLL, Quartermaster's Department. 

.X-^XV^NNXNNXVVXNNXNNVVCV-NVKVC^V ..;_;_.^B!;,^ ; j^_,_ . .^■^,, . .»-^,. ] .<^,, . .c^y. , ,X\V\NNV\\X\W\NX\\X\\X\\X\WvW\\^ 

fHE war was over. General Lee and his Confederates 
had returned to their desolated homes on their parole of 
honor. The victorious armies, under Grant and Sherman, 
were encamped around Washington, and Jeff Davis was in 
Fortress Monroe. 

Generals Grant and Rawlins were playing a game of billiards 
in the National Hotel and two civilians were indulging in 
that pastime on an opposite table. A major entered the room 
in a hurry and whispered to Grant. The latter laid his cue on 
the table, saying, "Rawlins, don't disturb the balls until I 
return,'' and hurried out. One of the civilians said to the other: 
" Pay for the game and hurry out. There is something up." 

In front of the hotel stood a mounted sentinel. Grant ordered 
the soldier to dismount, and springing into the saddle rode up 
the avenue so fast as to attract attention. The first civilian 
questioned the soldier as to the cause, but received no answer. 
On being told of the general's breakneck ride, it was decided 
to go to the War Department and learn the cause. 

One of the civilians came, asking me if I knew the reason of 
General Grant's hasty action and if I had seen the hero of the 
hour around the department. I answered, ''Yes,"" but was sur- 
prised at anybody's knowledge of the event. When told of 
what had transpired, I said, "Well, as you are aware of the 
coming of General Grant I will tell you about it, providing you 
promise not to repeat it. 

" Secretary Stanton sent for me in reference to the execution 
of certain orders, and, while listening to his instructions. 
General Grant came in. The secretary greeted the general 
with a pleasant ' good morning,' which the latter returned and 



CAMP AND FIELD. 341 

■said: ' Mr. Secretary, I understand that you have issued orders 
for the arrest of General Lee and others, and I desire to know 
if such orders have been placed in the hands of officers for exe- 
cution. ' 

" ' I have issued writs for the arrest of all the prominent 
rebels, and officers will be dispatched on the mission soon,' 
replied the secretary. 

"General Grant appeared cool, though laboring under mental 
excitement, and quickly said: — 

"'Mr. Secretary, when General Lee surrendered to me at 
Appomattox I gave him my word of honor that neither he nor 
any of his followers would be disturbed so long as they obeyed 
their parole of honor. I have learned nothing to cause me to 
believe that any of my late adversaries have broken their prom- 
ises, and I have come here to make you aware of that fact, and 
to suggest that your orders be canceled.' 

"Secretary Stanton became terribly angry, and said: — 

" 'General Grant, are you aware whom you are talking to ? 
I am the Secretary of War.' 

" Quick as a flash Grant answered back: ' And I am General 
Grant. Issue those orders at your peril.' Then turning on his 
heel Grant walked out as unconcerned as if nothing had hap- 
pened. 

'• Neither Lee nor any of his soldiers were arrested. I was dis- 
m.issed from the presence of the secretary with the remark that 
my services in connection with the arrest of the leading rebels 
would be dispensed with until he took time to consider, and I 
yet await the result of his decision." 



FOLLY OF THE NORTH. First New York Cavalry's Claim. 



•qp'ME folly of supposing that the re- milE 1st N. Y. Cavalry clainl the 
bellion could be overthrown by honor of having the first volunteer, 

anything but the annihilation of the the first company to muster, the first 

armies which supported and defended cavalry officer killed, the last officer 

it, was first pointed out in the most killed, the first man killed in defense 

emphatic manner by many of the news- of free soil, and the odium of having 

papers, long before the military authori- the first deserter — the only one the regi- 

ties were convinced of it. nient had during its term of service. 



Qerosg ® fRe @ %ipi(!{ai^. 



HARD FIGHTING IN THE WILDERNESS, 



RATTLE OF MUSKETRY AND ROAR OF ARTILLERY. 

By CHARLES B. BKOCKWAY, Captain Battery F, 1st Penn. Artillery. 

RANT'S Rapidan movement began on the 3d of May, 
18G4, and the utmost caution was observed to prevent the 
enemy from discovering our movements. During the 
night the army was massed at different fords on the Rapidan, 
ready to push over on the appearance of daylight. On the 
4th Hancock's corps crossed at Ely's ford without opposi- 
tion, much to the surprise of every one, because the river 
formed a splendid line of defense. Our road that day took us 
over the Chancellorsville battle ground. The troops were in 
motion at daylight of the 5th. The 2d Corps, leaving the 
main road, marched in a southerly direction, passing a furnace 
and some ore mines. We soon halted and formed line of battle 
on the left of the 5th Corps. They were in position on the 
Brock road, where it cut the Orange plank road at right angles. 
The ground selected by Lee was a dense chaparral for miles 
and is called " The Wilderness." 

The men began at once the construction of breastworks, 
using for that purpose anything that would stop bullets. The 
pioneer corps commenced slashing trees to give play to the few 
guns which were in position, and to impede the enemy should 
they attempt a charge. 

No noise betokened the presence of our foe, yet we "felt in 
our bones " that they were not far off. General Hancock held 
the left. General Sedgwick the center, and General Warren the 
right of the Union line. Burnside had joined us with 30,000 



CAMP AND FIELD. 343 

men, including one division of negroes, but the Uth Corps was 
not put on the Kne. As Sedgwick's artillery had not arrived, 
our battery was ordered to report to General Getty, command- 
ing a division of his corps. Only one section could be used, 
however, and that must advance at close intervals up the plank 
road. My section was selected. 

I never expected to come out of the engagement alive, nor to 
bring any of my men out. The infantry right and left were to 
a great extent shielded by the wilderness, but I had to take the 
open road, and formed a good mark for the enemy. The road 
was narrow — a ditch on each side — with no chance to limber 
up and retreat in case of accidents. I had my caissons follow 
some distance in the rear, and put my guns en echelon, to 
enable me to open with both at once. I took the precaution to 
have several shells prepared, as I knew the attack would be 
sudden. Our skirmishers were only fifty yards in front of our 
first line of battle, the two remaining lines following at close 
distance. We could not see what was in the woods, but 
several rebels leisurely paced the road four hundred yards in 
our front, and we knew '' by the pricking of our thumbs, some- 
thing wicked this way comes." 

As the minute of the watch pointed to 4.30 p. m. an advance 
was made. A few steps forward and the silence changed to a 
deafening roar of musketry. We advanced about two hundred 
yards, when the infantry began to waver, and I deemed it 
proper to perform my share in the tragedy. The guns were un- 
limbered and a few percussion shells sent into the enemy's 
ranks, now only a few hundred yards beyond. They immedi- 
ately placed a section of Napoleon twelve-pounders in the road, 
and a couple of solid shot whizzed by our ears. Here was a 
tangible enemy and we all breathed freer in seeing something 
to fire at. At this time the whole line was engaged; the line of 
battle advanced and receded, and the yells of either party rose 
above the rattle of musketry and the roar of artillery. By a 
fortunate shot we exploded one of the enemy's limber chests, 
and soon had disabled most of their men and horses. They 
then threw rounds of double-shotted canister, which bounded 
like hailstones, tearing up splinters in the plank road, and here 
and there knocked over men and horses. But our percussion 
shell was superior and their artillery was soon withdrawn. For 
a moment there was a lull and then the rebel line charged. 



344 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Slowly they pressed our men back, yelling like demons incar- 
nate. At first I threw solid shot at the column as it advanced, 
until they commenced double-quicking. At this time, an officer 
of the 93d Penn. hallooed: " Stick to it, Charlie; IVe got a thirty 
days' furlough," showing me at the same time a gaping wound 
in his thigh. 

The time had now arrived to use canister, and terrible execu- 
tion did it do along that narrow plank road. The enemy strug- 
gled bravely against it. If the line broke they steadily re- 
formed; if the colors fell they were seized by another hand; 
the wounded crawled into the ditches and the dead formed a 
barrier to the second line. 

General Hancock was now on the ground and promptly sent 
in fresh troops to support us. The enemy soon learned that 
they could not advance down a narrow road in the face of a 
section of artillery, capable of throwing a peck of bullets a 
minute! They then adopted safer tactics by loading their guns 
under cover, and taking the road only long enough to fire them. 
After being under fire over two hours I found only a round of 
canister remained. Major Ricketts sent another section to re- 
lieve me, which formed some distance in iny rear when I 
retired. At this critical moment one of the guns burst, carrying 
away a foot and a half of the muzzle. The other piece unaided 
could not check the charging enemy, and they secured the gun. 
By a gallant charge Carroll's brigade recaptured the gun and 
after dark we secured its limber. On the right and left the 
fight had been equally heavy, though no artillery was used. 
At the close of the engagement that night we held our ground 
on the left and center, but on the right we had lost two guns, 
some prisoners, and much ground. General Hays and Wads- 
worth had been killed, General Seymour captured, and several 
other generals wounded. Considering the engagement as a 
whole we had got the worst of it. 

On Friday, the 6th, Hancock determined to show Lee the 
mettle of the 2d Corps. The musketry was terrible, but we 
proved that our infantry could outfight theirs, even on their 
chosen ground. Line after line of intrenchments was taken, 
and the enemy's right steadily driven over two miles. This 
left our flank exposed and the enemy was not slow in taking 
advantage of it. Barlow's division was thrown into momentary 
confusion, but order was soon restored, and the line began fall- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 345 

ing back upon its supports. It was at this moment that Burn- 
side should have attacked. 

About noon a lull occurred, but it was the calm that precedes 
the storm. Longstreet, following Jackson's tactics, had massed 
his entire corps on the left. We managed to get Dow"s and 
Edgehill's batteries in position at short range, the 1st Penn. 
Battery being put in a position commanding the plank road. 
About 4, P. M. the charge was made, led by Longstreet in per- 
son. It was the heaviest of the war and on it Lee staked his 
hopes of driving us beyond the Rapidan. Our men stood like 
heroes. The guns were double-shotted with canister and fired 
at short range, but still the column pushed forward. A portion 
of Mott's division and an entire brigade of Birney's went to the 
rear en masse, and for a time we feared the line would be 
severed. To add to our discouragement the breastworks, which 
were built of planks, caught fire, compelling us to fall back on 
the second line. The rebels renewed their shouts and hundreds 
of them rushed from the wilderness into the road they had 
gained. The 2d Corps rushed to the front, captured or killed 
the enemy who had gained the road, drove the remainder back, 
captured their colors, wounded Longstreet, killed Jenkins, and 
disabled a number of other prominent generals. The other corps 
were not engaged as heavily. We had repulsed the enemy, but 
they held their original ground, besides holding their wounded 
and thousands of ours. Both had lost heavily. Grant declared 
that his previous battles were skirmishes compared to this. 
The picket firing was very heavy during the entire night and 
succeeding day. On Saturday, about dusk, it was discovered 
that Lee was moving towards Spottsylvania Court House. The 
arms captured from the enemy, or belonging to our killed and 
wounded, were gathered, and broken or buried. In order to 
deceive the enemy headboards were placed over them, in- 
scribed with the names of fictitious soldiers. During the en- 
tire night the weary soldiers were marching. Warren had the 
advance, followed by Sedgwick; Hancock, commanding the 
rear guard, did not leave the field until daylight of Sunday. 
Many men fell by the way, worn out or sunstruck, and had 
to be abandoned to the mercies of Mosby's guerrillas. 



^€lttre ^ of # ^pottSufu^IFll®. 

The Dekensk oe ''The Anole." 

MAY 12, 1864. 

A Heroic Day's Work by the 4tli Brigade, 2(1 Division of the 6th 
Army Corps, commanded by the Writer. 

GEN. OLIVER EDWARDS, of Warsaw, III., First Colonel 37th Massachusetts. 




HE enemy's line in front of Hancock, at Spottsylvania, 
Va,, May 12, 1864, formed a salient angle, and here 
the Confederates had massed thirty guns, for General 
Lee considered this the key to his position. General 
Hancock having captured this angle at daylight, the 13th, Gen- 
eral Lee resolved to retake it at all hazard. The position capt- 
ured consisted of this angle, of a line of breastwork five feet 
in height and strong enough to resist the fire of light artillery. 
There was a '"head-log" twenty inches in diameter on top of 
this breastwork, raised sufficient to fire under. There were also 
heavy traverses for the artillery. Behind this line was an open 
grove of large hard-wood trees. Near the right of this grove 
was the head of a ravine, extending back toward the base of 
the angle, forming a natural covered way for Lee's assaulting 
columns to approach within forty yards of the breastworks, 
entirely protected from our fire. It was at this part of the 
angle that the most desperate and constant assaults of the 
enemy were directed, and it was in front of the head of this 
natural approach that the 4th Brigade desperately battled from 
5 A. M. to 4.30 p. M. on the 12th, while it further helped to hold 
the position until 5 a. m., the 13th. 

At 4.30 A. M. on the 12th of May, 1864, the bugle at 6th Corps 
headquarters sounded the assembly. The corps was sleeping 



CAMP AND FIELD, 347 

as soldiers can sleep after seven days' of marching and fighting, 
but in a few moments the ith Brigade, 2d Division, consisting 
of the 10th and 37th Mass. Vols., and 2d R I. Vols., reported 
" ready to move." A staff officer from corps headquarters gave 
General Wright's orders that the first brigade under arms 
should move at once. The 4th Brigade moved at once and 
marched a short distance to the left, passing the rebel Gen. 
Edward Johnston, and Colonel Stewart of his staff, prisoners of 
war. The column soon turned to the right and debouched upon 
an open plain, with the angle directly in front, six hundred 
yards away. 

Filing to the right the length of the brigade and then by the 
left flank the 4th Brigade advanced and occupied the works 
captured by the 2d Corps, and relieved that portion of the 2d 
Corps directly in front of the head of the approach before 
described. The 10th Mass. Vols, were on the right, the 37th 
Mass. on the left, and the 2d R. I. in the center. The brigade 
connected with the Excelsior Brigade, 2d Corps, on our left, and 
the 3d Brigade, 1st Division, Gth Corps, formed on our right. 

Scarcely was the 4th Brigade in position when suddenly 
appeared three lines of the enemy, charging upon the works. 
The first line was scarcely twenty yards away, when the 4th 
Brigade delivered its fire and the enemy's lines were swept 
away; the ground seemed covered with dead, dying, and 
wounded. The firing under the ''head-log" made the effect 
far more deadly, for there was almost no overshooting. Expect- 
ing another assault, I ordered each regiment to hold its fire 
until the first line of the enemy was within fifteen yards of the 
works. Five times the enemy charged desperately in three 
lines in close column, and five times they went down before that 
wall of fire. The enemy then ceased to attack in close order, 
but threw forward clouds of skirmishers, endeavoring to 
advance in open order and mass enough men under their side 
of the breastworks to capture them. We then began file- 
firing, each man loading and firing as fast as was prac- 
ticable, and this was kept up until 3 a. m. the next morning. 

The fighting was continuous, and at times almost desperate. 
Two rebel color-bearers were shot down within a few feet of 
the works, and their colors captured, and at one time — for a 
few minutes — a rebel flag floated over the works, and then, as its 
brave bearer was bayoneted, the flag came to us. Lieutenant- 



348 CAMP AND FIT^LD. 

Colonel Reed, commanding the 2d R. I. Regt., received a bullet 
through his scalp. Major Parker of the 10th Mass. received 
his death shot, Major Moody of the 37th Mass. was wounded 
and had to leave the field, Lieutenant-Colonel Montague, com- 
manding the 37th, was slightly wounded but retained his com- 
mand. Many other officers of the 4th Brigade were killed and 
wounded by sharpshooters off on the right. Col. Waldo Mer- 
riam was killed while speaking to me. Without warning a 
regiment out of ammunition broke from the works to the rear. 
I had not one regiment out of the front line that had a round 
of ammunition. The 37th Mass, were asleep in the mud a few 
steps in rear of the fighting line. No noise of the battle could 
disturb them, but as I command '*37th advance, and hold the 
works with the bayonet!'' their line arises and moves into the 
works and crosses bayonets over the parapet. Midnight came, 
and with it plenty of ammunition. What a relief it was! Tlie 
night wore on. At 3 a. m. the enemy suddenly stopped firing. 
Our lines ceased to fire, and at once sent out a small reconnoi- 
tering party, who reported that the enemy had fallen back. I 
immediately covered our front with a skirmish line, and my 
tired soldiers slept on their arms. At 4.30 the firing of the 
rebels slowing down and the 4th Brigade being out of car- 
tridges, I relieved them with regiments of the 3d Corps and 
placed them a few paces in the rear in support. The 4th Bri- 
gade had up to this time used an average of about four hundred 
rounds of ammunition per man. The brigade had had nothing 
to eat all day. Gen. David A. Russell, commanding the 1st 
Division, Gth Corps, walked forward with me and said that he 
felt for us, and if we were not relieved before daylight that he 
would relieve us from his own division. A New Jersey regi- 
ment reported promptly and went into position on my right 
they were nearly 1,000 strong and fought nobly, easing me from 
all anxiety for that part of my line. 

In the mean time as soon as a relieved regiment could gather 
from the dead and wounded a few rounds of cartridges I relieved 
the regiments in the front line and the relieving regiments used 
their scant ammunition slowly and deliberately. These regi- 
ments belonged to the 3d Corps and fought well. I remember 
one of them, whose commander would reply to me each time I 
put them into the front line, "All right, we have but a few 
days to serve; give us all the fighting you can." 



Archer's lennesseeons q! Spottsijlvania. 

MAY 11 Ayn IS, 1S64. 

A SECOND ANGLE OF DEATH. 



Lee's Ccnduct Under Fire.— The Daring Act of a Federal Battery. 

By J. H. MOORE, 7th Tenn. Regiment. 



iN the otli day of May, 1864, Hetli's division opened the 
1^/ battie of the Wilderness, and for at least two hours held 
"Xjy^ Grant's army at bay on the plank road. On the 10th, when 
General Hancock led his corps to attack and flank our right, 
Heth's division was directed to meet and repulse him. In this 
last movement Gen. H. H. Walker, then commander of the 
Tennessee brigade, was wounded and lost a leg. The evening 
of the 11th found Heth's division, weary and fatigued, resting 
on the right of Lee's army. For days, officers and men were 
unable to take time to remove or to change their scanty clothes; 
every waking brought an imperative duty, and now, these 
veterans, as by a military instinct, could readily detect the sig- 
nificance of the movement. There are times when disposition 
of troops and orders executed with the utmost secrecy impress 
their aim upon the very privates in the ranks. It was apparent 
that all had forebodings of some great movement going on and 
that danger was imminent. Yet there was no excitement or 
hurry; all was quiet and in keeping with the approaching day. 
Now after ten days of constant service, hungry, weary, and 
unwashed, we might reasonably hope that the time had arrived 
when we could take some rest. Indeed, our position might 
justify this hope, as we believed the Federals were concentrat- 
ing somewhere besides in our front. The works occupied by 
the Tennessee brigade extended about fifty yards in front of 
the general direction of our line and terminated in an acute 



350 CAMP AND FIELD, 

angle. Immediately in our front for about fifty yards, was an 
open space and then pine woods. I was musing in a half rev- 
erie upon those solemn pines, when we were aroused by heavy 
firing on our left. This was about gray dawn. All were aroused 
and turned anxious eyes in the direction of the left. An ominous 
sight was presented. On our left, in the direction of the firing, 
issued flocks of small birds and owls from the wood. The 
density of the pines afforded sufficient darkness to those wan- 
derers of the night, but as they reached the open space in our 
front, their flight was rapid. Hardly had we time to reflect 
upon the retreat of the birds, before a heavy skirmish firing be- 
gan in our front, and about the same time the Federal artillery- 
opened on us. This skirmish and artillery firing was kept up 
until about 9 a. m., when the Federal skirmishers were re-en- 
forced and our men were driven in. Elated by the sight of our 
retreat before them, to gain the shelter of our works, they 
marched steadily and boldly out of the cover of the pines into 
the open space in front. They advanced in the height of mili- 
tary discipline, and received without wavering volley after 
volley, but at length our well directed fire told on their ranks. 
Though the enemy was repulsed with heavy loss he rallied 
in the pine woods, and again advanced to the attack. No 
time was lost; every man seemed nerved to do his whole duty. 
The enemy advanced to the open space but did not entirely 
emerge from the pine woods. He was checked by the fire of 
our works, assisted by our skirmishers and sharpshooters. The 
enemy now retired and was pressed back far into the pine 
woods by the advance of division skirmishers and sharpshoot- 
ers. This ended the attack upon the angle held by the Ten- 
nessee brigade. 

' AN ACT OF DARING. 

In conclusion, I desire to call the attention of those who par- 
ticipated in the battle of Spottsylvania to what appeared to me 
to be the most daring and desperate act of the war by a battery. 
On the morning of the 13th while I was within our works I saw 
to our right — distance about five hundred yards and about the 
same distance in front of our artillery — a Federal battery ad- 
vance at full speed and halt in an open field. The artillerymen 
at once took out their horses and sent them to the rear, as much 
as to say, "We have come to stay." This was in full view and 
within reach of our forty pieces. As quick as the horses were 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



351 



started back, every man of that battery was seen digging, yet 
I could hardly think they were in earnest, for I was satisfied 
that if our artillery once opened upon them, not a man could 
escape. Presently our artillery opened, and as the smoke 
cleared off, I could see, that digging, with desperate energy, 
was still kept up by the survivors. Death and destruction I 
thought would be the portion of the battery and its brave de- 
fenders, for it appeared at times as if their caissons were lit- 
erally covered with bursting shells; yet, strange to say, a few 
gallant fellows survived the attack and amid showers of shot 
and shell succeeded in throwing up tolerably secure works. 
They came to stay and they did stay. This was the bravest act 
of the war, and in the hope that I may yet learn who those 
gallant fellows were I mention the incident. 



^^— 



The March Towards Freedom. 



S— eT 



• vj » " ■« "" — t:^ 



T&-i 




E are to keep always in mind 
f tliat the war as begun was for 
preserving the Union by main- 
taining the government ; but the nation 
was marching towards freedom. Very 
early in the war, after the battle of 
Wilson's Creek, Mo., General Fremont, 
commanding in Missouri, issued a proc- 
lamation confiscating the property and 
making free the slaves of all citi- 
zens of Missouri who had taken up 
arms against the government. Presi- 
dent Lincoln I'evoked the order. It 
was his province as commander-in-chief 
to issue such an order. 

Three days before Robei't Small 
brought out the Planet, Major-General 
Hunter, commanding at Hilton Head, 



issued a proclamation. He said : 
" Slavery and martial law in a free 
country are incompatible. The persons 
in these States — Georgia, Florida, and 
South Carolina — heretofore held as 
slaves are, therefore, declared to be 
free." 

President Lincoln revoked this order 
for the same reason that he had revoked 
General Fremont's. He had sent a 
message to Congress urging the gradual 
abolishment of slavery by compensating 
the masters. 

Ralph AValdo Emerson, the thinker, 

had this to say about it : 

Pay ransom to the fiwner, 

And till the bag to the brim. 

Who is the owner? The slave is owner, 

And ever was. Pay him. 




^QFiGoefi's m Wonderful # ©Seirge 

AX SPOT'XSYIvVANIA, 
WAY 12, 1864. 

A Terrible Fire.— Trees EigMe-in Inches Through Cut Down by Bullets. 

'he charge against the salient at Spottsylvania, Va., on 
the 13th of May, was bloody and decisive. It was just 

CM , getting to be light and a heavy fog rested over the earth, 
when the low command, "Forward!" was given. The men 
passed quietly over three-fourths of the distance ere the 
enemy's pickets fired. Our troop* then charged at the run 
and gained the works before their men were really awake. 
They had only time to fire a few rounds of canister. Unfort- 
unately, at the sight of the prisoners and captured guns, the 
supporting columns gave vent to their joy by the most noisy 
yells imaginable, thus alarming the enemy, and warning them 
of our advance. Had it been otherwise, little would have been 
left of Lee's army, as their center was pierced, and in a few 
minutes we would have been in their rear. But the enemy was 
aroused, and, drawing troops from other points, endeavored to 
retake their works. The Mississippi brigade regained part of 
the line in front of Birney s division, and there occurred the 
hardest fight of the day. 

Our men retreated about thirty yards, and though unprotected 
fought unflinchingly the entire day. So steady was our fire, 
they could neither show meir heads, take aim, nor retreat, as 
our guns co-vered the space behind them. Where our line 
joined theirs, the men could touch each other, and each would 
load and fire over the parapet. This terrific musketry was 
kept up through tJie night to prevent the enemy from carry- 
ing off some artillery which lay between the lines. 

Trees eighteen inches in thickness were cut down by it, and 
t)odies of men and horses lying between the two lines were 
reduc(^d to shapeless 7nasses. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 353 

As Hancock's lieadquarters were in our battery, we saw and 
heard all that was going on. A moment after the charge a 
crowd of men came confusedly to the rear. I could scarcely 
believe our corps had broken, as there had been but little firing; 
but the gray uniforms soon dispelled our fears. They came in 
thousands and we began to fear that they would overpower the 
weak guard sent with them. 

Major-General Johnson was brought in. He thanked his 
guard courteously for their kindness. '* You are damned wel- 
come/" was the blunt reply of the sergeant. Hancock greeted 
him cordiall3^ saying, "I am glad to see you, Ned." "Under 
other circumstances," said the rebel, ''I would be pleased to 
meet you." Hancock then said to an aide, decisively: "Tele- 
graph Warren and Burnside to attack at once; that I have 
routed Johnson and am going to roll up Early; have taken their 
main line, eight thousand prisoners, thirty guns, and twenty- 
three colors. Request General Wright to send re-enforcements, 
and in the meantime send in every available man to this point 
and give orders to hold the works at all hazards." 

During these orders, Johnson put his hand to his heart, and 
as he gazed upon his fellow prisoners and the earthworks, 
which but an hour before were under his command, heavy 
tears coursed down his cheeks and his whole frame heaved 
with emotion. But he took a drink with Hancock, who then 
sent him on horseback to Grant's headquarters, accompanied 
by an aide. Our horses were sent to us to bring off the captured 
guns, and in many cases the men had to fight while hitching to 
them. The Irish brigade and Miles's brigade each secured a 
gun after dark, by slowly crawling up in the face of the 
enemy's fire, hitching to them, and dragging them to the rear. 

A Singular Coincidence. 



Tip" WO lieutenants of the Regular first granted. By a coincidence their 

Army sought and obtained perm is- regiments bore even date, as did their 

sion to take service in volunteer regi- order of detail. These two officers be- 

ments. Their applications were the came widely known as Major-General 

first of that nature made, and were the Warren and General Kilpatrick. 



be Cl7ap^® ah ^enne^aU. 



A GALLANT BUT FRUITLESS AND COSTLY ATTEMPT TO 
BREAK THE REBEL LINE. 



BY JESSE S. GREEN, 52xd OHIO. 




i!HE battle of Kennesavv Mountain was one of the hard- 
est fought engagements of the Atlanta campaign. It 
took place on the 27th of June, 1864. Sherman had 
pushed Joe Johnson down a hundred miles from Chat- 
tanooga, compelling him again and again to abandon his well- 
chosen and strongly fortified positions. When Johnson's army 
planted itself on the Kennesaw line, it seemed to say to the Yan- 
kees, " Thus far, but no farther !" For several days Sherman had 
made but little progress, except to strengthen his position. The 
hostile lines were in many places but a few hundred yards apart. 
Skirmishing was incessant. Whenever a man on either side ex- 
posed himself, he was the target for a score of bullets. 

After carefully studying the situation, Sherman determined 
upon an assault, hoping to be able to pierce the Confederate line. 
Although part of the Army of the Tennessee participated to some 
extent in the battle, the hot work of the assault chiefly fell to the 
lot of the Second division of the Fourth corps and the Second 
division of the Fourteenth. Orders for the movement were given 
on the evening of the 26th, but, as usual, they did not get down 
to the men in the ranks. The soldiers did not often know before- 
hand when they were going into battle. Perhaps it is best that 
they did not. 

Soon after daylight on the morning of the 27th, the necessary 
dispositions for the assault were made. The two divisions men- 
tioned were massed for a rush upon the enemy. Other divisions 
were drawn up within supporting distance, ready to take instant 



CAMP AND FIELD. 355 

advantage of a breach m the rebel Hne, should the assault prove 
successful. Generals Sherman and Thomas were on a hiil some 
distance in the rear, which commanded a view of the scene 
of operations. To this hill telegraph wires had been laid so that 
Sherman was in close communication with the different corps of 
his army. 

About nine o'clock the bugles sounded the advance. The men 
sprang to their feet and dashed forward. Most of them were un- 
incumbered, having left their blankets at their place of bivouac. 
From the point of starting to the enemy's line of entrenchments, 
was, perhaps, one thousand yards. The formation was under 
cover of thick underbrush, and the rebels had no warning of the 
assault until the Union line had emerged from its concealment. 

As soon as the soldiers came in sight of the Confederate works, 
thev quickened their pace, and pushed forward with a yell that 
always accompanied a charge. The rebels were on the alert, and 
at once opened a most murderous fire. This did not, however, 
for an instant, check the advance. Without pausing to return 
the fire, the Union soldiers pressed forward up to the vSteep slope, 
bent upon reaching the works. Men fell by scores before the 
pitiless storm of bullets, but the survivors kept on until thev 
reached the formidable abattis, which the enemy had laid about 
half way up the acclivity. Men with axes cut away the obstruc- 
tion. Through the openings the soldiers crowded, and swept for- 
ward up to the very muzzles of the hostile guns. 

It was a fearful ordeal. No stronger test of human courage 
can be imagined. Officers and men vied with one another in their 
determination to reach the works and scale the parapet. It was 
a gallant, glorious charge, but unsuccessful. It was not in 
human power to break the enemy's line. The soldiers of those 
two divisions did all that men could do, but were finall}^ compell- 
ed to abandon the attempt. The order was reluctantly given to 
fall back, and then it was every man for himself, to get out from 
under fire as soon as possible. Some of the wounded were carried 
off the field ; others, and the dead, were left where they fell. 

About halfway down the slope the contour of the ground was 
such as to afford shelter, and here several hundred men rallied, 
and stubbornly held their position for several hours. But thev 
could accomplish nothing, and after a time were withdrawn. 

In the afternoon, under a flag of truce, the dead were buried, 
and the wounded cared for. The loss was severe, being about 
twenty-five hundred. The proportion of killed was unusuallv 
large, as much of the fire of the rebels was at short range, and 
most deadly. Nearly all the loss fell upon the two divisions of 



356 CAMP ANO FIE Mi, 

the Army of the Cumberland, being about equally divided iunong 
them. Two excellent officers were among the victims. One was 
Colonel Dan McCook, of the Fifty-second Ohio, commanding a 
brigade in the Fourteenth corps. While bravely leading his men 
he received a bullet in his body, which proved fatal a few days 
later. A Brigadier-General's commission reached him a few hours 
before he died. Newton's Division of the Fourth corps suffered a 
grevious loss in the death of Brigadier-General Charles J. Harker, 
formerly Colonel of the Sixty-fifth Ohio. He was also shot in 
the body near the rebel works. He was borne to the rear, where 
he died in a few hours. He was conspicuous for his gallantry, 
and his death was sincerely mourned. 

The soldiers were disposed to blame General Sherman for the 
disastrous and fruitless assault at Kennesaw. They pronounced 
it a mistake, and such it proved to be. There is little doubt that 
had a breach been made in the enemy's line, the result could have 
been in the highest degree favorable to the Union army. Sherman 
thought it possible to pierce the rebel works, and had a large 
force at hand to spring upon the enemy in case the assault was 
successful. No one regretted more than he the loss of life that 
brought no compensating advantage. A few days later a flank 
movement compelled the rebels to abandon their strongly fortifi- 
ed position on the Kennesaw line, to evacuate Marietta, and fall 
back across the Chattahoochee. Sherman's army speedily fol- 
lowed, and drove them within the strong defences around 
Atlanta. 



GENERAL HUNTER'S RAID 

U p 7{i T H K ^K- Shenandoah. 

]S^EW3IABKET AVENGED, 

CAPTAIN SOLEY, 34th Mass. 

! ■ — ^ — °iiiiljiilililiiili!illliilililiiiiiinilili!!i° — -^ {< — — -s • 

|N the 22d of May, 1864, Maj.-Gen. David Hunter assumed 
command of the army of the Shenandoah, then lying 
encamped in the vicinity of Strasburg, superseding Gen- 
eral Sigel. On assuming command the new commander issued 
an extremely stringent order, a copy of which now lies before 
me. Section 2d says: '' For the expedition on hand, the 
clothes each soldier has on his back, with one extra pair of 
shoes and socks, are amply sufficient. Everything will be 
packed. Each knapsack will contain one hundred rounds of 
ammunition, carefully packed; four pounds of hard-bread, to 
last eight days; ten rations of coffee, sugar, and salt; one pair 
of shoes and socks, and nothing else." Section 3d orders that 
the command shall subsist on the country. Under this order 
the command was put in motion on the morning of the 26th. 
On the evening of the 29th, it encamped near the battle field 
where it had been defeated under Sigel on the loth. Here the 
column remained till the morning of June 2, burying the dead, 
and caring for the wounded, several of whom still remained at 
the little village of Newmarket close by, too severely wounded 
to be removed by the enemy. This done, the column resumed 
its march, and on the evening of the 2d of June, encamped 
near Harrisonburg. Here, many of the wounded of the late bat- 
tle were found, among whom were Lieut. -Col. William S. Lin- 
coln of the oith Mass. , Lieut. R. W. Walker, and many others. 
The column resumed its march the 4th, via Mount Crawford 
and Port Republic, and reached the vicinity of Piedmont with- 



358 CAMP AND FIELD. 

out encountering anything of note. The shrill notes of the bugle 
aroused us at four o'clock on the morning of the oth, and soon 
after we were again on the road taking the direction of Staun- 
ton. The infantry marched in two columns, one on the right, 
the other on the left of the road; a body of cavalry moved in 
advance, while the road was occupied by the artillery and 
ordnance train. In this order we moved through a wooded 
country; and at times the skirmish fire in front was truly lively. 
Skirmishers were thrown out on either flank and we pushed 
on rapidly, until we came in sight of Piedmont. Here the 
enemy showed more strength; his artillery opened a well 
directed fire, and our own artillery responded as fast as the 
batteries came up. Soon the foggy atmosphere cleared, the sun 
shone out warm and bright, and, as the battle increased, things 
began to have a more cheerful appearance. With but little 
supper and less breakfast, it is a great relief to be ordered to 
take command of the skirmishers at the commencement of a 
battle, but this was the writer's orders. A strong line of skir- 
mishers were pushed forward and the advance posts of the 
enemy were driven back on his main body, which was strongly 
posted on elevated ground in front of the village of Piedmont. 
They had hastily constructed breastworks of logs, rail fences, 
and such other material as came to hand. These defenses were 
musket-proof, but our artillery made sad havoc with them, and 
made it hot for their defenders. The enemy concentrated his 
force on our right wing, and pressed it hard, but was forced to 
retire. The battle continued, neither party gaining decisive 
advantage, till about 3 p. m., when Colonel Thoburn's brigade 
was moved over from the left to strengthen the right of our 
army. The 34th Mass. of this brigade was detached and, 
supported by the 54th Pennsylvania, was led by Colonel Wells 
up a ravine between two hills, thereby piercing the enemy's 
center, and from that position was enabled to flank the left 
wing of the enemy. This movement was made with great 
rapidity, and, strange to say, was totally unobserved by the 
enemy. These two regiments changed directions, and charged 
with a cheer up the hill and on the flank of the rebel left wing. 
They were received with a deadly volley of musketry, the 34th 
losing its color bearer and many men, killed and wounded. 
This did' not check the impetuosity of the charge, and after a 
severe but brief hand-to-hand struggle the enemy gave way 



CAMP AND FIELD. 359 

and fell back, at first stubbornly, then more rapidly, but finally 
scampered off the field, leaving it strewed with dead and 
wounded, besides 1000 prisoners in our hands. The victory was 
complete, and all seemed to feel that the defeat at Newmarket 
had been fully avenged. 

Before night, the Gth, the victorious column had reached 
Staunton, the first Federal force within that place since the 
opening of hostilities. Our army remained at Staunton till the 
morning of the 10th. It was employed during this time in 
gathering provisions, destroying the 'railroad and canal, and 
everything that belonged to the Confederate government, or 
that in any way would tend to its advantage or support. Sev 
eral miles of the Virginia and Tennessee railroad were 
destroyed, the rails and ties being torn up, and the road 
rendered unserviceable. While the force lay at Staunton it was 
joined by General Crook, commanding a division of infantry, 
and General Averill with a small division of cavalry, with the 
usual proportion of artillery from the valley of the Kanawha. 

From Staunton we advanced through the country in three 
columns, Crook to the right, Hunter center, and Averill the 
left. In this manner we moved through Fairfax and Lexing- 
ton. At the latter place we burned the Virginia Military Insti- 
tute buildings, several mills, and large warehouses, Governor 
Letcher's residence, and a very large quantity of military sup- 
plies. We crossed the James river at Buchanan, the night of 
the 14tli and ascended the Blue Mountains by a steep and cir- 
cuitous route to •' Peaks of Otter." We passed Liberty late the 
16th, and by the afternoon of the 17th were driving General 
Breckinridge's forces back upon Lynchburg. An hour or two 
more of daylight and Lynchburg would have been ours. By 
the sound, train after train arrived during the night, and we 
could hear the troops they bore moving out, and working dili- 
gently on the defenses of the place. Our infantry lay in a nar- 
row skirt of woods, with a high hill in the rear, and a formid- 
able redoubt on another hill in our immediate front, and within 
easy rifle range. Our skirmish line ran along on the face of 
the hill, the summit of which was crowned by the enemy's 
earthworks, and was so close up to the latter that it left no 
room for an opposing line on his part, but the parapet of his 
works gave ample cover to his sharpshooters, and, when early 
morning lighted up the scene, they were not slow in letting our 



360 CAMP AND FIELD. 

skirmishers know that they were "thar." A little further to the 
left the woods extended a couple of hundred yards further to the 
front, and the extreme edge of this wood was here occupied by 
our line of skirmishers. Several of our rifled batteries occupied 
the high hill in the rear of our infantry. All through the early 
morning, supreme quiet reigned along the lines, and it was not 
till about sunrise that it was broken by the enemy, who opened 
with his artillery from the earthwork in front of us. Our guns 
on the hill in the rear promptly responded, and for some time a 
roaring artillery fire was kept up on both sides. The enemy 
having ascertained the position of our batteries after a while 
ceased firing, except an occasional shot; and our gunners soon 
became correspondingly inactive. The enemy must have felt, 
as well as seen, the effects of our practice, for, while the can- 
nonade continued, shells could be constantly seen tearing up 
the parapet of his works, or exploding among the defenders. 

About noon all was unusually quiet along the front. The 
artillery on both sides had entirely ceased, and, except the 
occasional crack of a rifle, scarcely a sound disturbed the midday 
quiet. One unaware of the fact would scarcely believe that 
two hostile forces lay confronting each other and ready in a 
moment to enter into deadly combat. Now, away to the left, 
the roar of Duffle's cannon suddenly breaks the oppressive still- 
ness, and a moment later the "rebel yell" ran along the 
enemy's lines. They come — the gray, the brown, the "butter- 
nut" commingled, but in splendid military order. Howling forth 
that hideous yell, they rushed madly on, unchecked by the gall- 
ing and rapid fire of our well-trained skirmishers. Suddenly 
there is a deafening roar and the ground trembles with the con- 
cussion; our artillery on the hill in the immediate rear opens on 
them; great gaps are cut in their ranks; that high-toned yell 
grows fainter. But still they come, closing up the gaps as they' 
advance. Now, "Forward the infantry," rings along our lines, 
and as the line of blue issues from the woods, it pours in a 
deadly volley, and, advancing rapidly, continues the fire. The 
line of gray reels, staggers, hesitates, and, terribly thinned, 
gives way before the advancing blue. They are swept over and 
into their first line of defenses. The starry flag of the 116th Ohio 
is seen for a short time waving on their parapet; but orders are 
given to withdraw, and, leaving a strong line of skirmishers, 
our infantry retire to their former place. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



361 



It was a terrible hot brush; the charge on the part of the 
enemy was made with a sort of dare-devil recklessness, and our 
artillery, at almost point blank range, mowed them down fear- 
fully, and when this fire was supplemented by that deadly 
volley from the advancing infantry, they must have been more 
than mere men to have stood up under it. Our loss was con- 
siderable, but that of the enemy must have been much greater. 
The fighting was obstinate and the battle well contested all 
along the lines, and on our left it was particularly severe. The 
contest lasted altogether two or three hours — in fact, heavy 
skirmishing continued till nearly dark and did not altogether 
cease till the darkness prevented the riflemen from taking 
accurate aim. 



TPhk Prisoner's Lanient. 

[Written by a member of tlie 5tb Iiid. Cav., who died one month afterwards at Andersonville, Ga.] 




fHEN" our country called for men, 
We came from forge, and store, 
and mill ; 
From workshop, farm, and factory, 
■ The broken ranks to fill. 
We left our quiet, happy homes 

And ones we loved so well, 
To vanquish all the Union foes 

Or fall where others fell. 
Now, in prisons drear we languish, 

And it is our constant cry, 
Oh, ye who yet can save us, 

Why will ye leave us here to die ? 

The tongue of slander tells you 

Tliat our hearts were filled with fear ; 
That'all or nearly all of us 

Were captured in the rear ; 
But the scars upon our bodies, 

Of musket ball and steel, 
The missing legs and shattered arms 

A truer tale will tell. 
We have tried to do our duty 

In the sight of God on high ; 
Oh, ye who yet can save us, 

Why will ye leave us here to die ? 



There are hearts with hope still beat- 
ing 

In each pleasant Northern home ; 
Watching, waiting for the loved one 

Who may never, never come. 
In prisons drear we languish, 

Meager, tattered, pale, and gaunt ; 
Growing weaker day by day, 

With pinching cold and want. 
Brothers, sons, and husbands, 

Poor, helpless, captured lie ; 
Oh, ye who yet can save us. 

Why will ye leave us here to die ? 

From out our prison's gates 

There is a graveyard close at hand, 
Where lie thirteen thousand Union men 

Beneath the Georgia sand. 
Scores are added daily. 

As day succeeds each day, 
And thus it will be ever. 

Until all have passed away. 
The last can say, when dying. 

With upturned and glazing eyes, 
Both love and faith are dead at home — 

They leave us here to die. 



CHARGE OF THE STAR BRIGADE, 

1st Brigade, 1st Division, 18th Corps, 

AT^COIvD^HARBOR. 



THE MOST HEROIC AND BLOODY ACT OF THE WAR. 

June 3, 1864. 
By W. P. DERBY, 27th Mass. Regiment. 



VNVWXNNVWXNXVVXWXWVV: 



GENERAL attack upon 
the rebel lines at Cold 
Harbor had been ordered 
for 4 p. M. , but a severe thun- 
der- storm, accompanied by 
heavy wind, set in previous to 
that hour and continued into 
the night, so that the time of 
the assault was changed to 
4.30 A. M. the following day. 

At early light the Star Bri- 
gade quietly awoke, hastily par- 
took of hard -tack and coffee, 
and at once moved a half mile 
to the left and front. A heavy 
artillery fire at this time opened 
along our whole line. The 27th 
Mass. Regt. now advanced as 
skirmishers, followed closely 
by the Star Brigade in mass 
by division, and, moving rap- 
idly across an open field, en- 
tered a piece of timber and 
followed a ravine to a point 
near the edge of the woods. 
The orders from headquarters 
required no concert of action 
by the various corps. 

21 




PREPARATIONS FOR STORMING 
THE enemy's works. 

The place assigned the 18th 
Corps to assault was an angle 
in the enemy's works, easterly 
and but a short distance from 
Gaines Mill. The hostile 
works consisted of substantial 
converging infantry parapets, 
with powerful profile skirting 
the crest of a low hill, which 
seemingly rose fifteen feet 
above the field before it. The 
apex of the angle was toward 



CAMP AND FIFXB. 363 

the enemy, and just in the rear of its convergence, and some- 
what elevated, was a fort mounting several guns. Back of the 
works were to be seen nine stands of colors, representing as 
many regiments of Gen. R. H. Anderson's rebel corps, who 
were there to defend them. The field between the opposing 
forces was about three hundred and fifty yards wide; it was 
traversed by a ravine and dotted with stunted oak and apple 
trees. The rebel troops defending this position were Field's 
division of Anderson's corps, and consisted of Gen. E. M. Law's 
brigade, 4th, 15th, 44th, 47th, and 48th Ala. Regts., and Gen. G. 
T. Anderson's brigade, 7th, 8th, 9th, 11th, and 59th Ga. Regts. 

The troops selected from the 18th Corps to assault this angle 
were the Star Brigade of Martindale's division, commanded by 
Gen. George J. Stannard, as brave and effective an officer as 
ever took the field. The brigade consisted of the 23d, 25th, and 
27th Mass., the 9th N. J., and the 55th Penn. Regts. The first 
four had been shoulder to shoulder since the autumn of 1861; 
the latter had joined since the last battle. This brigade took 
position in the woods, the 27th Mass. on the right front, sup- 
ported by the 55th Penn., the 25th Mass. on the left front, 
supported by the 23d Mass. The formation was by divisions of 
two companies. 

Shortly after 5 a. m. the artillery duel ceased, and the 27tb 
Mass. advanced. After a brief consultation by the command' 
ing generals, their voices rang out on the morning air. 

It was a moment of supreme impulse, of magnetic enthu- 
siasm, of royal ambition, of consecrated patriotism. With a 
bound and a Union cheer, the brigade cleared the woods and 
the undergrowth skirting its edge and entered the open field, 
in full sight of the enemy and within easy range of their guns. 
Instantly the ground was covered by a hostile storm of iron 
enfilading every foot of advance; double-shotted rebel guns 
hurled grape, canister, and shrapnel, and the earth quivered 
under the mighty shock of battle. Into the riven field swept 
the assaulting column, unmoved by the fearful storm, and soon 
cleared the first line of rifle-pits. They now entered musket range 
and, to the howl and groan of heavy ordnance, was added the 
hum of "minies" and t-zip of bullets; but with majestic tread 
the Star Brigade rushed onward " into the jaws of death." On- 
ward they swept, though every step was stained with blood. 
Onward, though Death gathered his harvest with overflowing 



364 CAMP AND FIi^LD 

hand and comrades fell as seared leaves before an autumn 
blast. Great ugly gaps rent in the line were quickly closed by 
the comrades of the fallen. They were now well within the 
angle and within about fifty yards of the desired goal. With 
an energy born of despair the enemy seemingly redoubled their 
efforts and hurled murderous volleys in quick succession. The 
brigade was already terribly defeated, but, blind to this, they 
plunged into the field beyond, unconscious of what was clear 
to their commanders and to the supporting divisions, that their 
depleted ranks would be in numbers no match for the enemy 
behind the works, were it even possible to reach the hostile 
line. A few steps more of advance and a fire more devastating 
than before swept the field, and, like a wave shorn of its 
strength, the column faltered and sank to the ground, the dead 
and wounded literally piled upon each other. With a spirit 
that has immortalized the brigade, the living extricated them- 
selves from the mass of slain and again struggled against the 
iron storm, — crouching to escape its fury, — not ready yet even 
to acknowledge defeat in an open field — 

" Thrice the assailants shock them free, 
Once gained their feet and twice tlieir knee " — 

until the crumbling ranks sank under the withering fire, 
unable to reach the goal or to retrace their steps to friendly 
shelter. There were thousands of details, tens of thousands of 
episodes, along the Union front, but the fact was this: that rush 
carried the Star Brigade butt-up against a line of works which 
they were unable to carry, or, if carried, hold. Conceive the 
fierce onslaught amidst deafening volleys of musketry, thunder- 
ings of artillery and the wild, mad rush of battle; see the ranks 
mown down as they contend for every inch they advance until 
the lines crumble and bre'ak before the iron hail. Conceive of 
all this, and you will be able to individualize acts as they oc- 
curred along the line. Each man of the Star Brigade was a 
l\Ost, and the sum of their heroism an immortal action. 

UPON THE FIELD. 

It was impossible for the brigade to retrace its steps 
without doubling the loss already sustained, hence the men 
threw themselves upon the ground and sought such protection 
as its surface might afford. So fierce and unsparing was the 



CAMP AXP FIELD 365 

musketry that the slightest movement was at the risk of life. 
The living clutched the ground, not knowing that many around 
them were dead. Some worked the soil from beneath them 
and settled their bodies into the ground, and not a few so ar- 
ranged the bodies of the d©^d that the living could crouch their 
heads behind them for covert and defense. The surface of the 
field seemed instinct with life from the incessant plowing of 
shot and shell. The air was alive with all mysterious sounds, 
and death in every one of them. There were muffled howls 
that seemed in rage because their missiles missed you; the angry 
cry of the familiar minie; the t-zip of the common bullet; 
groans and the great whirring rushes of shells. Then came 
the dreadful " Whitworths," which made the air instinct with 
warning or quickened it with vivid alarm — long wails that 
fatefully bemoaned the deaths they wrought, fluttering screams 
that filled the space with horror, and cries that ran the diapason 
of terror and despair. 

Above the din of battle came the wail of the wounded and 
the heart-rending cry, "Water! water! give me some water!" 
for nothing so tortures the wounded as the intolerable thirst 
caused by the ebbing tide of life. There was a lack of all nurs- 
ing, a lack of all care, until fifteen tedious hours had dragged 
their weary length, when, under cover of the dusk of evening, 
they tenderly gathered their wounded and cautiously worked 
their way back to the point from which they had made the 
fatal charge. 

As the column retraced its course to the rear, it was their 
fortune to pass the left of the 6th Corps, many of whom grasped 
their hands in cordial sympathy and exclaimed, "If you are 
'parlor soldiers,' you charge and fight like h — 1!" The assault 
had cost them 98 killed, 356 wounded, and 38 prisoners out 
of a total of about nine hundred men who participated in 
the charge. The fighting for the day was practically over by 
7.30 A. M,, but in that time the Union army had lost 13,000 
men, while the enemy had lost but 1,100 men. Of this charge 
might well be applied the comments of the French general upon 
the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaklava, "It was doubt- 
less magnificent, but such a waste of men is not war!" 



366 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



BARBARA KRIKTCHIK. 



BY J. G. WHITTIER. 




,F from the meadows rich with 
corn, 
Clear in the cool Sejitember morn, 

The clustered spires of Frederick stand, 
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. 

Round about them orchards sweep, 
Apple and peach tree fruited deep. 

Fair as a garden of the Lord 

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde, 

On that pleasant morn of the early fall, 
When Lee marched over the mountain 
wall ; 

Over the mountains, winding down. 
Horse and foot into Frederick town. 

Forty flags with their silver stars, 
Forty flags with their crimson bars. 

Flapped in the morning wind ; the sun 
Of noon looked down and saw not one. 

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, 
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten. 

Bravest of all in Frederick town, 
She took up the flag that men hauled 
down ; 

In her attic window the staff she set, 
To show that one heart was loyal yet. 

Up the street came the rebel tread, 
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. 

Under his slouched hat left and right 
He glanced — the old flag met his sight. 

" Halt ! " the dust-brown ranks stood 

fast; 
" Fire ! " outblazed the rifle blast. 

It shivered the window, pane and sash. 
It rent the banner with seam and gash. 



Quick as it fell, from the broken staff 
Dame Barbara snatched the silken 
scarf ; 

She leaned far out on the window sill. 
And shook it forth with a royal will. 

" Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, 
But spare your country's flag ! " she 
said. 

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame. 
Over the face of the leader came. 

The nobler nature within him stirred 
To life at that woman's deed and word. 

" Who touches a hair of yon gray head 
Dies like a dog ! March on ! " he said. 

All day long thro' Frederick street 
Sounded the tread of marching feet ; 

All day long that free flag tossed 
Over the head of the rebel host ; 

Ever its torn folds rose and fell 

On the loyal winds that loved it well. 

And through the hill gaps, sunset light 
Shone over it with a warm good-night. 

Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, 
And the rebel rides on his raids no 
more. 

Honor to her ! and let a tear 

Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier! 

Over Barbara Frietchie's grave. 
Flag of Freedom and Union, wave ! 

Peace, and order, and beauty draw 
Round thy symbol of light and law. 

And ever the stars above look down 
On thy stars below in Frederick town ! 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



367 



An Answer to the " Blue and the Gray." 



WRITTEN BY A LOYAL LADY. 



^SpHE loyal blue and the traitor gray 
^S Alike in the grave are sleeping ; 
Lying side by side in the sunlight's ray 
And under the storm clouds' weeping. 
'Tis well to forgive the past, 

God giving us grace we may, 
But never while life shall last 
Can we honor or love the gray. 



Answers each loyal heart to-day, 

They are peers and equals, never ; 
No wreath on a traitor's grave we lay, 
Let shame be his weed forever. 
Give love where love is due. 

To the loyal all honor pay ; 
Love and honor belong to the blue, 
But what do we owe the gray ? 



Our Boys in Blue were loyal and true. 
For their God and their country dy- 
ing ; 
With a grateful pride that ever is new 
We garland their graves where they're 
lying. 
They were murdered by rebeL 
bands, 
They fell in the fearful fray, 
Guarding our flag from traitors' 
hands ; 
We do not love the gray. 

We would not hate them, our hearts 
would fain 
Cast a veil o'er their shameful story; 
It will not bring back our loyal slain. 
To recall their treason gory ; 
But barriers deep and wide 

Divide the false from the true ; 
Shall treason and honor stand side 
by side, 
Is the gray the peer of the blue ? 



Wo owe them three hundred thousand 
graves. 
Where the loved and lost are lying; 
We owe them, where'er our banner 
waves. 
Homes filled with tears and sighing. 
Do they think that we forget our 
dead. 
Our boys who wore the blue, — 
That because they sleep in the same 
cold bed 
We know not the false from the 
true ? 

Believe it not ; where our heroes lie 

The very ground is holy r 
His name who dared for the right to die 
Is sacred, however lowly ; 
But honor the traitor gray — 

Make it the peer of the blue, — 
One flower at the feet of treason 
lay? 
Never! while God is true. 




MERRIMAC VS. MONITOR. 



A Midshipman's Account of the Battle with the "Cheese Box." 



HOW THE CONFEDERATES EXPECTED TO ANNIHILATE IT WITH ONE 
FELL SWOOP— DETAILS OF THE PROPOSED ENGAGEMENT. 




WHY IT FAILED. 



LIEUT. LITTLEPAGE, Confederate Navy. 




— ■■' U Tie— j^S— gT 




*0R some time it was not generally known that 
extensive preparations were made in the repair 
of the Merrimac after the fight, so as to have 
the next contest between the two iron-clads one 
of short dnration. I was a midshipman on the 
Merrimac wlien she fought the Monitor, and I 
can say that we were taken wholly by sur- 
prise when the strange vessel put in an appear- 
ance in Hampton Roads. We had sunk the 
Cumberland, caused the Congress to burn, and the Minnesota 
and one or two others to run aground, and on that morning 
when we went out, we thought to finish the Minnesota, which 
had been unable to get itself off the bar. Our first intimation of 
the presence of the Monitor was w^hen we saw her run out from 
behind the Minnesota to attack us before we could begi?i the 
onset upon the Minnesota. We thought at first it was a raft 
on which one of the Minnesota's boilers was being taken to the 
shore for repairs, and Avhen suddenly a shot was fired from her 
turret we imagined an accidental explosion of some kind liad 
taken place on the raft. 

In the engagement that followed, we were unable to dc 
anything with her, though our guns were served continuously 
and broadside after broadside was discharged. We tried to 
ram her, but found that our prow had been too badly damaged 



CAMP AND FIELD. 369 

by running into the Cumberland on the day before to inflict any 
harm upon the Monitor. She pounded us considerably, but not a 
shot penetrated our armor, though it was loosened and repairs 
made imperative at the earliest moment. Our vessel was leak- 
ing badly, but by active efforts we were enabled to keep her 
from taking too much water. While we had twenty-one of our 
crew wounded, we thought that we had escaped losses in that 
respect in a remarkable degree. Had a shot from the Monitor 
enterea one of our port-holes it would have probably killed no 
less than fifty men, for there was a crew of 380 men aboard, so 
that there would be no lack of help when an emergency should 
arise, and we were quite closely packed together. 

THE CONFEDERATES* PLAN. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon the Monitor withdrew from 
the fight and went over the bar into shallow water where we, 
drawing much more water than she, could not follow. We 
understood that she had run out of ammunition. As we were 
leaking badly and there was no y>rospect that we would be able 
to reach the Minnesota in the shallow water where she lay, our 
captain gave the order to return to Norfolk, where we immedi- 
ately went into dry dock for repairs. It was fully a month 
before we were ready to go out again, and meanwhile all sorts 
of reports were circulated among the Federals about us. It was 
claimed that we were afraid to show ourselves to fight, all of 
which we only laughed at, feeling that we should soon be able 
to give a good account of ourselves. I think that if the two 
vessels had again met we should have made short work of the 
Monitor. Every bit of our armor had been replaced by plates 
two inches thick, and we had also a large number of shot for 
the seven-inch guns in the form of bolts about two and one-half 
feet in length, pointed with steel, with which we intended to 
make certainly an impression upon the Monitor. Besides all 
these things we had organized a boarding party, which was 
divided into several sections. 

It was the plan for the proposed engagement that the Merri- 
mac should at once run alongside of the Monitor. We could 
easily do this, for our engines were more powerful than hers 
and we could make greater speed. Then one section of 
the boarding party would immediately put down gang 
planks, by which the men would speedily get on board the 



370 



CAMP AND FIELD 



Monitor, one section of them taking sledges and iron wedges 
to drive between the turret of the ship and her deck, so as to 
prevent it from revolving and pointing her gmis at us; another 
party was to run around the turret with a hawser made fast to 
our bow and which was to lie coiled upon deck ready for the 
emergency, and after the circuit had been made of the turret 
the plan was to fasten the other end of the hawser to the 
Merrimac and thus bind the two vessels together. While this 
was going on another party was to rush to the turret and every- 
where else that an opportunity was offered and pour oil down 
into the hold of the Monitor and then set fire to it. Another 
force was to be ready with large tarpaulins to extinguish the 
flames should the crew of the Monitor surrender and it be 
desired to save the vessel. 

But we were disappointed in all this, for when at last we 
were ready and steamed out of Norfolk we found that the Moni- 
tor was, with a number of other Federal vessels, under the 
shelter of the land fortifications. We felt ourselves a match for 
any or all of the vessels, but in no condition to stand the com- 
bined force of the fleet and the fortifications, so we withdrew. 
Then when Norfolk surrendered and there seemed no longer a 
chance for the Merrimac to be of service, she was blown up and 
destroyed. These are a few of the facts connected with that 
fight that have never before been published. 



First Federal Troops in Sayannah. 



Greatest Raid of the War. 



]gr ENERAL GEARY'S division, the 
2d, of the 20th Corps, was the first 
to enter the city of Savannah at the 
time of its capture by General Slierman, 
and General Geary was made military 
commander of the post. 



gf ENERAL STO NEMAN'S raid into 
Virginia, in December, 1864, and 
the destruction of the saltworks at Salt- 
ville, is said to have been the greatest 
raid of the war, and perhaps the great- 
est ever made in the world. 




^Re: Battle of (floMoeacE^. 

JULY 9, 1864. 

GKNKRAIv EARLY DKFEATED. 



A Gallant SJtof.—A Hot Pursuit. 



LEADEN MISSILES OF DESTRUCTION FLY THICK AND FAST. 
A WONDERFUL ESCAPE. 

W. T. McDOUGLE, Contpany K, I'^dth O. V. I. 




,ISr the evening- before the battle of Monocacy we landed at 
the Junction and camped near by. I was on the detail for 
^^^ picket, and was placed in charge of the post on the Fred- 
erick City and Georgetown turnpike. During the night noth- 
ing occurred to disturb our peace. The morning dawned with 
a halo of sunshine and beauty. The birds never appeared to be 
so joyful. The large farm house on the hill to our left seemed 
almost a paradise, with its surroundings of horses, hogs, cattle, 
fowls, etc. These things, in the absence of our accustomed 
routine for the past two months, were to me most impressive. 
We could scarcely believe it possible that before the setting of 
the sun this beautiful place would be the scene of such deadly 
strife. At length the clouds began to gather. The refugees 
were coming in in great numbers — men, women, and children, 
old and young, black and white, all with their household ef- 
fects. Firing was heard in the direction of Harper's Ferry, and 
we were told by the refugees that the rebs were coming in 
great numbers. Nearer and nearer came the sound of the distant 
guns, till at length we heard the shrieks of the shells as they 
pierced the air. The enemy massed in our front, and were pre- 
paring for a charge. Their batteries having opened, we were 
greeted with a volley. A cannon ball struck the tree by which 
we were posted; another dropped a few' feet to our rear and 
went bounding across the valley like a schoolboy's rubber ball; 
another buried itself in the earth a few feet to our front. All 
was now commotion. The orderlies were galloping from place 



372 CAMP AND FIELD. 

to place, the officers hurrying hither and thither with their com- 
mands. The pickets were ordered in. I found my regiment 
down on the right, near the river bridge. The regiment was 
immediately ordered to the left of the 1st Brigade, and near the 
picket post we had just vacated. 

An incident occurred on our way which I think will bear 
notice. The enemy, perceiving our move, brought their bat- 
teries to bear upon us. A high board fence was to be crossed. As 
I took hold of the top board I was crowded back by a more anx- 
ious comrade. As he swung himself over the fence his knap- 
sack was riddled with a grapeshot. Again I made the attempt, 
with the same success. But this time my predecessor, as he 
swung himself over the fence, was struck in the left arm above 
the elbow by a grapeshot, his arm falling by his side. I again 
made the attempt and cleared the fence, barely escaping a large 
cannon ball that struck the board from which I had just alighted. 

We found the enemy bearing down hard on the left of the 
1st Brigade. They halted on a hill in our front. A large wash- 
out, with a stiff growth of weeds on its banks, extended up the 
hill. I was among the nine who crawled up in this to surprise 
the rebs, two of the number receiving severe wounds. Judge 
of my surprise when, in a short time, I discovered that the rebs 
had flanked us on the right and gobbled up the most of our reg- 
iment and held undisputed control of the field. I crawled on 
the bank, but could see no chance of escape. I had my gun 
loaded, but in the excitement it occurred to me that I could not 
surrender with a loaded gun. A rebel flag, surrounded by fif- 
teen or twenty of its followers, was on a knoll near by. The 
Confederates did not appear to notice me as I raised my gun 
and sent my best wishes into their midst. I then threw my gun 
and sat down. A prisoner! It was the most horrid thought 
that had ever entered my mind. Never before had I realized 
the blessings of liberty, and now I had a fair prospect of being 
sent to Anderson ville, Libby, or some other prison. I could 
not stand it, and springing to my feet and seizing my gun, I 
started for the North. They ordered me to halt, but without 
effect; they sent shot after shot after me, till the air appeared 
alive with missiles, but still without effect. One of them then 
undertook to run me down; but, after throwing away my knap- 
sack, in which were my diary and the picture of "the girl I 
left behind me," I managed to make good my escape. 



THE GREAT MINE ADVENTURE. 




TUNNELING UNDER A REBEL FORT. 

BY A. 3[EMBER OF THE 4Sth PENK. INEANTRF VOLS. 



lEUT.-COL. Henry C. Pleasants, of the 48th Penn. 

Regt., originated the expedient of a mine. 
The distance between our line and the nearest most 

important rebel force was over four hundred yards — too 
great to hope for success when the difficulties to be encountered 
in the way of quicksands, marshes, and discovery by the enemy 
were taken into consideration. Col. Henry C. Pleasants, how- 
ever, cherished the idea. The rebel fort loomed temptingly in 
front, and being a man of energy and practical experience in 
mining operations, and knowing that he would be ably sup- 
ported by his regiment, which was mostly composed of miners, 
he secured permission to commence operations. The work was 
commenced on the 25th of June, 18G-4, and with such secrecy 
was it conducted that for a long time the project was unknown 
even to those at whose side it was going on. Reports were in 
circulation, but nobody could speak with certainty of the mat- 
ter. One soldier, by whose side a ventilating shaft emerged, 
told his comrades in the most surprised ntianner that there were 
a lot of fellows under him "a doing something." He knew 
there was, for he could "hear 'em talk." To guard against 
any meeting of our soldiers with rebels, our pickets were or- 
dered to fire continually; hence the never-ending fusillade in 
front of the 0th Corps so incomprehensible to the other corps. 
The enemy suspected at first that the undermining was going 
on, but when several weeks elapsed their suspicions began to 
vanish, especially as their engineers thought the plan unfeasi- 
ble. 

The progress of the work was very slow, and it was not until 
the 25th of July, 1864, just one month after its inception, that it 



374 CAMP AN1> FIELD. 

was completed. One of the most important points was to ascer- 
tain the exact distance and bearing of the rebel fort. Working 
under ground is literally working in the dark, but the distances 
were laid off upon the ground behind our works, and from these 
lines as bases, and with the angles formed by lines extending 
in the direction of the fort, a simple geometrical problem was 
formed, the solution of which gave the required distance. The 
different triangulations gave a result of five hundred and ten 
feet. The excavation was commenced in the side of the hill 
whereon our exterior line of works ran. The '* gallery" was 
about four and a half feet high, nearly as many feet wide at 
the bottom and two feet wide at the top. The usual army pick 
was not suited to the work, and this diflficulty was overcome by 
filing down the flukes to the size of the mining pick. Water 
was met not far from the entrance, and for a time gave no little 
trouble. The floor, however, was planked, and the sides and 
ceiling shored up, A quicksand was also met with, and to ob- 
viate it the range of the tunnel was curved upward, so that the 
latter half was several feet higher than at the entrance. It 
was easy from June 25 to July 25 to recognize a 48th man by 
his muddy boots. The earth, as fast as excavated, was con- 
veyed in cracker-boxes or half-barrels, to the mouth, where it 
was emptied into bags, which were afterwards used on the top 
of the breastworks. In this manner a suspicious accumulation 
of earth was avoided. The ventilation of the tunnel was 
effected by a shaft sunk to the side of the tunnel, at its junction 
with which a fire-place was built, with a grating opening into 
the gallery; one end of a series of tubes made of pine boards 
was inserted through the earth into this fire-place, where, as 
the air became rarefied and ascended, it created a " suction " or 
draft in the tubes connecting with the gallery. As fast as the 
tunnel progressed, additional tubing was jointed on, and fol- 
lowed the workmen step by step. The smoke from the fire 
could not be concealed; but, to withdraw attention from it, fires 
were kept burning at various points along the line. The light- 
ing of the tunnel was effected by placing candles or lanterns 
along the walls at a distance of ten feet apart. 

At length the end was reached, and the triangulation was 
verified by the noises heard overhead. The nailing of timber 
and planks could be distinctly heard, and left no doubt that 
the men were directly beneath the rebel fort. The enemy were 



CAMP AND FIELD. 375 

evidently making a flooring for their artillery. As soon as it 
was apparent that the fort had been reached, the construction 
of the mine was commenced. The angle of the fort projected 
toward our lines, and under this angle the tunnel diverged into 
two galleries, each running, as near as could be ascertained, 
under each side. It was the intention that the mine should 
consist of eight magazines, placed at intervals along these 
branch galleries, so that the entire length of the fort might be 
blown up in place of one spot. The mines were eight in num- 
ber — four in either branch gallery. They were two by two, 
and the explosion resulted in four craters. The explosion of the 
magazines was effected through tubes of pine wood, six inches 
square, half filled with powder. They ran along the bottom 
of the tunnel, and entered the magazines through openings 
made for them. Between each pair of magazines and over the 
tubing was the "tamping" of sand bags and logs. The tubes 
extended only one hundred feet from the mine; thence they 
were connected with the mouth of the tunnel by fuses — the reg- 
ular " sure-fire" coal mining of Pennsylvania. 

The mine was charged on the 37th day of July, 18G4. The 
quantity of powder used was six tons! Think of it. Twelve 
thousand pounds! 

After thirty-two days and nights of constant toil the work 
was complete and only awaited the lighting of the fuse. 



First Men Arrested by Order of First Colors Planted at Chapin'8 
War Department. Farm. 



JQANIEL FISH and Dr. Sabot, both jgAPT. CHARLES BLUCHER, 188th 
of New York, were the first men Penn. Regt., planted tlie first na- 

ai-rested in the North by order of the tional colors on the rebel fortifications 

War Department. This was on the in the charge of September 30, 186-i, at 

24th of April, 1861. Chapin's Farm. 



HIGHEST MARINE RANK. First \t. Cavalry, Cedar Creek. 



''Jp'HE rank of vice-admiral, conferred ^jVO regiment captured so nnich on a 
upon Farragut, was a higher rank single charge as was captured by 

than had ever before been known in this the 1st Vermont Cavalry at the battle 

country. of Cedar Creek, October 19, 1864. 



A HOT FIGHT. 



BATTLE OF PEACH TREE CREEK, BEFORE ATLANTA. 

JULY 19, 1864. 
MORITZ TSCHOEPE, Company C, 24th >A/'is. 



-.^^ 







FTER a whole series of battles, charges, 
skirmishings, etc., we arrived on the 
evening of the 19th of July, 1864, on the 
bank of Peach Tree creek, and occupied 
some old breastworks. To the right of our 
division camped the t^Oth Corps. Hooker in 
command of it. On the morning of the 30th we were aroused 
by artillery firing on our left. I saw a whole lot of soldiers 
standing on the breastwork, and I ran up too, to see what was 
up. A battery amused themselves by shelling the rebel picket- 
pits. At last, two pieces of that battery dashed out in full gal- 
lop on the road right in the rebel picket-line, limbered off right 
and left, and shelled the pits. I thought that was a great piece of 
braver3^ In the afternoon the bugles •'fall in," and shortly 
after we saw the corps advancing in line of battle — skir- 
mishers in front, artillery in the rear — in grand style. We 
crossed the bridge, formed line of battle, and advanced until 
we got in line with the 30th Corps. Om- division was more in 
the timber, while Hooker's corps was in open field. Soon our 
skirmishers, who had advanced through the woods, discovered 
Hood's armj^ massed for a grand attack. Skirmishing com- 
menced, and we went to work to build a kind of barricade. 
We did not need to wait long. Our skirmishers ran back, 
the rebel column after them. We received them in good shape. 
On came the enemy again and again, and I could not help 
admiring their bravery, but it was all in vain. They had to 
retreat with terrible loss. Two davs after they were more sue- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 377 

cessful on our left wing, and had it not been for John A. Logan, 
the Atlanta campaign might have had a far different ending. 
We thought the fun was over, when, all of a sudden, a tremen- 
dous noise broke loose in our rear to the left. Our brigade 
adjutant ordered us back on our left flank, which was only 
covered by a skirmish line till clear l^ack to the bridge, and here 
the rebels were determined to break tlirough, cut us off from 
the bridge, and give us fits. We double-quicked back through a 
regular hail of shot and shell, and re-enforced that thin line 
behind a fence. On the road behind us, ambulances, wagons, 
and stragglers hurried to the rear. 

We put in the best we had, but I believe the rebels would have 
broken through if it had not been for a brass battery, which 
came on in a gallop, posted itself right behind us upon the road, 
and the boys, throwing off their jackets, rolled up their sleeves 
and labored with a will, firing over our heads. We repulsed 
every onslaught until the rest of our corps put in their appear- 
ance, when the battle ended. 

43.»^ 

TO MY WI KB. 

B/ P. WHITNEY, 1st Mass. Cavalry. 
Written in Andersoiiville Prison, where lie soon afterward died. 

CARE not for the rising storm. My gentle wife, my darling wife ! 

T do not heed the cold, My soul's own joy and pride ! 

^ Nor listen to the angry wind Ten thousand blessings on the day 

That roars around the wold ; When you became my bi-ide. 

I only know my journey's o'er, I've never known a weary hour 

For just ahead I .see Since I have held your hand — 

The light that tells my little wife I would not change my worldly lot 

Is waiting there for me. For any in the land. 

Oh ! sweetly from her loving lips. 

The blissful welcome falls ! 
There is no happiness for jne. 

Outside our humble walls. 
Ah ! sad indeed would be my heart, 

And dark the world would be, 
If not for this dear little wife, 

That ever waits for me. 

Kindness of Jlrs. Ann C. Whitney, Mitchell, Dak. 



Ol 



liSGAN At AriANtA. 



Gkneral IVIcPhkrson's death, 



'*WILL YOU HOLD THIS LINE WITH ME?" 

JULY 22, 1864. 
By A. O. S. 



^v^^WXNW^-^NW^^V^WNWVvXWVNX X X. X. ^ -X. ^ X XwXWVWXNN'VsVXWXWVvWWXVCV 



^^ "^-^^l: ^ 



'URING the terrible 
slaughter amidst the 17th 
Corps, General Logan was en- 
gaged along his front with a 
heavy charging column of the 
enemy. While directing op- 
erations on his right, which 
had become extremely hazard- 
ous by the withdrawal of the 
16th Corps, he received the sad 
intelligence of the death of his 
commanding officer, General 
McPherson, and the order from 
General Sherman to assume 
command of the Department 
of the Tennessee. With sad- 
dened heart and tearful eyes 
he heard the sad news, and, 
reading the order, bowed his 
head upon his breast for a mo- 
ment in deep thought. Then, 
looking up, he exclaimed, 
" Would to God I were better 
qualified to fill the place he so 
filled to perfection." Realizing 



the immense responsibility now 
resting upon him, he gave a 
hasty order to the general com- 
manding his immediate front, 
put his spurs to his gallant 
black steed, and rode rapidly 
towards the 17th Corps. Lying 
across the railroad was the 2d 
Division, 15th Corps, com- 
manded by Gen. Morgan L. 
Smith, one brigade of which, 
with the batteries of Captains 
De Grasse and Woods, held 
an advanced line. A heavy 
charge made on this advance 
line, captured the artillery 
and a good many of the 
men. The rest precipitated 
themselves upon the main line 
so suddenly as to seriously af- 
fect their morale, causing dire 
confusion, and a stampede. 
General Logan reined in his 
foaming steed so suddenly as 
to set him back on his 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



379 



haunches. Taking in the sit- 
uation at a glance and compre- 
hending the terrible result that 
would follow the break in the 
lines, he rode, with bared head, 
swiftly among that confused 
mass of soldiers. The super- 
human efforts of General 
Smith to halt his men had 
proved abortive, but now an- 
other character was in their 
midst — an idolized leader was 
there. Witness General Logan 
as he rides among them — hat 
in hand, hair blown back be- 
hind his ears by the wind, his 
long mustache standing out 
almost straight, those eagle 
eyes flashing like flames of 
living fire! Standing in his 
stirrups he presented a figure 
of determination and irresist- 
ible force that carried courage 
and new strength to every 
heart. 

That famous black stallion, 
his war-horse, was infused with 
the same spirit as his rider. 
"Halt!" he cries in stentorian 
tones. Riding up to a color 
bearer, he seizes the colors, and 
his voice peals forth, " Halt! 
are you cowards? Would you 
disgrace the proud name of the 
15th Corps? Remember Mc- 



Pherson and avenge his death! 
Will you hold this line with 
me?" "Yes, yes, yes," came 
from all parts of the line, and 
back those panic-stricken men 
turned—panic-stricken no more, 
but a brave, determined force 
that under Logan could not be 
moved. Nor were they moved 
again that day, though assailed 
by fearful odds. The dead and 
wounded along their front and 
within their lines showed how 
brave and efficient men could 
be under a leader equal to the 
emergency. The dreadful car- 
nage soon ceased. The enemy 
were completely routed at all 
points. What was a well 
planned attack, and promised 
so much, had turned into a ter- 
rible, crushing defeat. 

The 2d Brigade, 1st Division, 
16th Corps, were now brought 
over from their position, where 
they had met heavy losses, and 
put in battle order to charge 
the outer lines, which the 
enemy captured from Gen. M. 
L. Smith. Right gallantly they 
went to the charge, recapturing 
both lost batteries and a goodly 
number of prisoners. This 
charge ended the fighting for 
that day. 



The 14th Corps' Credit. 



First Union Officer Killed in the War. 



'*]r''HE 14th Corps was first in the fight 

before Buzzard's Roost, and wound 

up the Atlanta campaign at Jonesboro'. 



Jf lEUT. JOHN T. GRF:BLE,M'ho fell 
at Big Bethel, was the first Union 
officer killed in the war 



DEATH OF CAPTAIN GLENN, 

Followed by that of his Servant Mat, who Died from Grief at His Loss. 



BY E. T. B. GLENN. 



^T<^^- 



TOUCHING incident in 
real life is afforded by the 
death of Capt. Chalmers 
Glenn, of Rockingham County, 
N. C. , and his faithful servant. 
Mat. Reared together from 
childhood. Mat had shared in 
all the boyish pranks and frol- 
ics of his master, and in later 
life had been his constant 
attendant and faithful servant. 
On the morning of the battle 
of Boonsboro', Captain Glenn 
called Mat to him and said: 
'"Mat, I shall be killed in this 
battle. See me buried, then go 
home and be to your mistress 
and my children all that you 
have ever been to me."' From 
behind a rock the faithful fel- 
low watched all day the form 
of his beloved master, as the 
tide of battle ebbed and flowed 
over that eventful field. At 



last he missed him, and, rush- 
ing forward, found the predic- 
tion too truly verified — life 
was already extinct. Assisted 
by two members of his com- 
pany, a grave was dug with 
bayonets, and soon the cold, 
silent earth held all that was 
dearest in life to Mat. Slowly 
and sadly he turned his face 
homeward and delivered all the 
messages and valuables with 
which his master had entrusted 
him. From that time it seemed 
his mission on earth was 
accomplished. Though con- 
stantly attending his masters 
children and promptly obedi- 
ent to the slightest word of his 
mistress, he visibly declined. 
Finally he was taken sick, and 
despite the best medical atten- 
tion and kindest nursing, he 
died February 4, 1863. 



Best Fought Battle of tlie War. 



Maryland's Brave and NoWe Step. 



g|.ENERAL THOMAS'S battle before 
Nashville was the best fought battle 
of the war, and the victory was the 
most complete of modern times. 



^V^ARYLAND was the first state that 
ventured by immediate process to 
put an end at once to the institution of 
slavery. 



The 78tli Oljio at Battle of Bald llill. 

JULY 31 AXJ) 33, 1864. 

HOT Firing at Short rangk. 



stars and Stripes Captured and Retaken by Hand-to-Hand Fighting. 

W. S. AYRES, Company A, 78th 0. V. V. I. 




■ANY of the G. A. R. boys remember the desperate 
struggle of the 78th at Bald Hill. At a critical point 
. ~ - of the fight our regiment changed front at the angle 
in company with the 30th and 30th 111., and we formed (Ai the 
left of the G8th Ohio, which had been away that mornmg from 
the brigade on detached duty, but had arrived during the early 
part of the fight, and had been stationed on the left of the fort, 
facing south, and had thrown up breastworks in the shape of a 
prolongation of the apron of the fort occupied by the 30th 111. 
We had just formed, with the 20th Ohio on our left and the 
noble old 4th Division on its left, when General Cleburne s 
division made those several assaults which were the forlorn hope 
of General Hood's plans, but which, thanks to a kind provi- 
dence, did not succeed. We were in an open field, about fifty 
yards from the woods, lying flat on the ground, when the John- 
nies came up with their accustomed yell. We waited unti 
they got within twenty yards of us before we opened fire; and 
when we did, such slaughter I never saw before or since. 
Their first fine was wiped out, but by the time we had sprung 
to our feet and reloaded, another line had come up. We opened 
on it, but it was soon re-enforced by a third line and closed in 
on us. We fixed bayonets and then and there we had it 
with clubbed muskets, fisticuffs, and wrestling. Once they got 
possession of our flag, but it was retaken by the most heroic 
fighting. Again, a big fellow got hold of the switch of the flag 
and tried to take Comrade Russ Bethel along with it, but Russ 



382 



CAMP AND FIELDo 



was not to be outdone that way, and jumping forward he landed 
on that fellow's jugular and sent him to grass in one round; and 
McBurney, of Co. H, ran him through with the bayonet, which 
was perfectly excusable in that kind of fighting. Still another 
rebel tried the same tactics, however, and, alas! poor Russ had 
got hit in the shoulder and could not now resort to the same 
defense. His disabled arm was slung in his waist-belt, and he 
was holding on to the staff with his other hand while Mr. 
Johnny was taking the flag and bearer right along when fortu- 
nately, Captain Orr, of Co. H, perceived the situation of affairs 
and rushed up to Mr. Rebel and gave him a crack over the 
head which disposed of him effectually. We succeeded in 
holding that line, but at a frightful cost. 

The morning report of our regiment on the 32d of July 
showed about three hundred men for duty. That of the 23d 
showed less than two hundred. 



^^^s:^i-^\f^->'i' 






■i—^^v 



AN UNFORTUNATE VICTIM. 



"dl^UT one man was executed in the 
Army of the Potomac up to Febru- 
ary, 1863, for a flagrant crime, and that 
was a case of attempted desertion to 
the enemy. 



First Coufedenate Arrested for 
Treason. 



President Lincoln and Hiram Wal- 
bridg'e. 



JJON. Hiram AValbridge, of New 
L York, was the first person to rec- 
onmiend to President Lincohi the im- 
portance of securing Beaufort and Port 
Royal, S. C. 

First Confederate Gun at Bull Run. 



"♦DPHE first arrest for treason by the '•DjP'HE first Confederate gun fired at 
Confederates was tlaat of J. W. the battle of Bull Run, in 1861, 

Merriam, collector of the port of was fired by Lieut. George S. Davidson, 

Georgetown, S. C, January 7, 1861. of Latham's battery. 




CAMP AND FIT^LD. 



383 



CONIPANY K. 



By J. W TEMPLE, Victoria, II!. 




AY up in the North, where 
the giant pines stand, 
7r~^^Jr^ Tall sentries of Time set on 

guard o'er the land 
Ere the Genoese sailor, Columbus, was 

born, 
Or Magellan had made his first trip 

round the Horn, 
In the land of the hills, where the breeze 

from the sea 
And the breath of the pines fill the 

lungs of the free, 
When the echoes from Sumter had 

scarce died away, 
Those hills saw the nuister of Company 

K. 

Wouldst know, curious reader, of what 

stuff 'twas made? 
Odd sort of war timber you'll think, I'm 

afraid ! 
Its captain, a deacon, mild-mannered 

and pure. 
Esteemed by his neighbors, beloved by 

the poor ; 
Two stout young lieutenants, brought 

up on their farms, 
Untutored in tactics, and war's stern 

alarms ; 
But who " guessed if square fightin' 

e'er came in their way, 
They could git along somehow with 

Company K ! " 

For " the boys " were their neighbors, 

their schoolmates of yore. 
From the plow and the anvil, the work- 

sliop and store ; 
Broad of breast, stout of limb, full of 

frolic and fun. 
Skilled with axe, saw, and spade, — knew 

the use of a gun ; 



Thought that " mebbe them fellers " (so 
nuich talked about. 

Who bragged of the " Yanks they could 
chaw in a font," 

And what crack shots they were) might 
happen some day, 

To see " pooty fair shootin ' by Com- 
pany K " ! 

Ah, God only knows of the hearts well- 
nigh broken, 

When the home ties were snapped, and 
the brief farewells spoken, 

And the shrill fife but half drowned 
the sobbing that day, 

As the drum-beat marked time to the 
marching away. 

And the boys noticed then what they 
ne'er saw again, 

'Mid the shrieking of shells or the bul- 
lets' fierce rain, 

(Though he led every charge, and 
braved death in each fray,) 

A pale cheek on the captain of Com- 
pany K ! 

Frank reader, confess you'd be bored, 
should I tell 

All the haps and mishaps to their fort- 
unes that fell. 

'Tis said though, that once, in a world- 
famous fight, 

Where the rebel works crowaied every 
hillock and height. 

When the order was given to charge, in 
the face 

Of the death shower poured through 
the brush-tangled space. 

The captain made pause just one mo- 
ment to pray, 

But the first o'er the breastworks was 
Company K ! 



384 CAMP AND FIELD. 

There came, too, a crisis, — you've read Ah, needless to tell to my comi-ades in 

it, no doubt, — blue. 
When the rebels had flanked us and Who served the tried Nation's long life- 
put us to rout, struggle through, 
When one veteran chief, like a rock in How^ deep was their grief vfhen a shell 

the main, tore away 

Braved the fierce tide of battle that From their ranks the loved captain of 

raged o'er the plain ; Company K ! 
Checked the foe, saved an army, and 

gave one name more How gentle those powder-grimed hands 

To the bright roll of heroes evolved by as they bore 

the wai-, — The captain, all mangled and covered 

'Mid the proud Spartan band who stood with gore, 

firm on that day To the rear ; how they questioned the 

With their dead piled around them surgeon, to know 

stood Company K ! If hope had yet fled — if " the captain 

must go ! " 

When " duty " was done, and the battle How breathless they watched, as in 

had sped, tears they stood by. 

How the good deacon-captain would To catch his last words : " For my 

grieve o'er his dead ! country I die ! 
How he'd tenderly watch with the God help my poor wife ! Boys, I'm sink- 
wounded, and stay ing away ! 
In the hospital wards with his sick, Good-by, and my blessing on Company 

night and day. K ! " 
And when, in reward for his courage 

and skill. Long years have rolled by" since that 

Promotion and honors awaited his will, sorrowful scene ; 

He sent " thanks to the gin'ral, but The graves of our martyrs are hid 'neath 

guessed he'd best stay the green. 

With the boys, and be capting of Com- The country they died for we lived on to 

pany K " I see 

Triumphant o'er treason, united, and 

And " the boys " — bless your soul, they free ! 

, just worshiped their " pap " ! Let us hope that the brave who to battle 

When the "old man" said "Come, went forth 

boys ! " 'twas " Here's with you. Are enshrined in the warm, grateful 

Cap ! " hearts of the North ; 

No lagging, no shirking, no " playing it And that memory holds 'mong her 

fine," treasures to-day 

When their ears caught his quiet, " Boys, Proud legends of many a " Company 

fall into line 1 " K " ! 



Women in the War. 



INVALUABLE SERVICES IN THE TIME OF NEED. 



Woman's Help in the Home, the Hospital, and Upon 
the Battle Field. 

MRS. HELEN N. PACKARD. 



I'-^J^*! '■''■i^/:!'''<?^y ■''^"■y '''^''; 



f% QUARTER of a century 
^^ has passed away and we 
^ are just awakened to a 
recognition of the faithful and 
invaluable services rendered 
by women to the defenders of 
our country. It is fitting that 
we, who have taken up the un- 
finished work, should eulogize 
the services of women in the 
war. Many left comfortable 
and luxurious homes to share 
the privations of the field. 
Tenderly nurtured women, 
whose lives had been guarded 
with jealous care from every- 
thing rude and unpleasant, 
shook off the garments of 
wealth and ease, and stood 
forth heroines for the cause of 
liberty. From the balmy South, 
whose sunny slopes were 
drenched with the warm young 
blood of the North, went up a 




wail for the tender hand of 
woman to moisten the lip and 
fevered brow; to take down 
the dying message, and whis- 
per sweet words of a fairer 
land. Before the echoes of 
Sumter had died away, 
women all over the North were 



386 CAMP AND FIELD 

scraping lint and rolling bandages, bat not until after the fatal 
31st of July did they fully realize the sacred mission which 
awaited them. In answer to this call came wives, mothers, and 
sisters, by the thousand. A large share of these were of a ne- 
cessity rejected. Age, character, and capability were the con- 
siderations and those who met the requirements were accepted. 
But now a query went up over all the land: "What can we do? 
We cannot idly fold our hands while the boys at the front need 
so much." The Sanitary and Christian Commissions gave back 
answer, "We will be your servants." Previous to the organiza- 
tion of these charities there had existed very imperfect methods 
of sending supplies to the front, but by the establishment of 
these commissions,— conceived and carried out by the best ex- 
ecutive ability, — the work was systemized and thoroughly and 
faithfully done. 

To Miss Louise Lee Schuyler, of New York, must be given the 
credit of organizing the Sanitary Commission, which was event- 
ually the means of saving thousands of lives. Thousands of 
busy fingers scraped lint and prepared bandages, while tireless 
knitters fashioned the warm hose for weary, blistered feet. 
Others were making underclothing and bedding, while wines, 
jellies, and canned fruits were prepared unstintingly for hospi- 
tal stores. 

But the army nurses! Those brave women, who hourly wit- 
nessed heart-rending.scenes; whose life was a daily martyrdom 
in striving to subdue the tender feelings of a woman's heart in 
the stern duties of an army nurse — to those especially our 
thoughts turn at this time. The diary of Mrs. Belle Reynolds, 
of Shelburne Falls, kept for nearly four years, is indeed a reve- 
lation of what they suffered bodily and mentally. The work 
was hard and unsatisfactory, until after the organization of the 
two commissions. Then the work was systemized and order 
took the place of chaos and confusion. Then the tree of charity 
bore abundant fruit, and stretched its huge arms into every 
state in the Union. Each branch sent nurses for its own regi- 
ments, and sanitary supplies direct to them. Pilfering and 
petty thieving among small officials was almost entirely done 
away with. Mother Bickerdike, suspecting a certain surgeon 
of confiscating hospital stores for his private table, visited his 
tent just before dinner and found his table loaded with wine, 
jellies, and other delicacies. She made a clean sweep of the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 387 

good things, saw General Grant, and in twenty-four hours the 
guilty surgeon was under arrest. All honor to Mother Bicker- 
dike! She was loyal, good and true, and many a gray-headed 
veteran now lives to call her blessed. Possessed of great phys- 
ical strength, it was easy for her to lift and carry' to the field 
hospital many a poor wounded and dying boy. Culture she 
had not, but native shrewdness and practical good sense were 
her royal birthright. But above all else she possessed a big, 
motherly heart, whose every throb was for the boys in blue, and 
it is our earnest hope that her pathway to the other shore may 
be bright with immortelles of gratitude from the boys she 
served so well. Many of the most devoted of the nurses laid 
down their burdens before the conflict was ended. They died 
upon the field of honor, and 

" Their eulogies are written 
In letters fair and bright, 
On the page of immortality 
In yonder world of liglit." 

Prominent among those who fell was Anna Maria Ross, 
of Philadelphia. It was mainly through her exertions that the 
famous cooper's shop saloon, of Philadelphia was inaugurated 
and sustained. In October, 18G1, she started the hospital in 
connection with the saloon, and for two years labored unceas- 
ingly for the institution. In December, - 18G3, the overtasked 
body gave way, and she lay down to sleep, and death kissed 
down the eyelids still. As truly as the hero who fell pierced 
with his death shot, she fell, as true a hero as any who died in 
defense of their country. 

It would not be possible to more than touch on the grand 
service rendered by the women in the war. Coming years will 
do them justice and make still brighter the names of Annie Ella 
Carroll, Mrs. Annie Wittenmyer, Anna Maria Ross, Mother 
Bickerdike, Clara Barton, Emily Dance, and hosts of others 
who did loving and faithful service in the nation's struggle. 

Just over the border of our neighboring state has been laid 
to rest in lovely Cedar Hill cemetery, Hartford, Mrs. Harriet 
Foote Hawley, who did as great service for our soldiers as any 
woman of the war. It was her fortune to welcome to Wilming- 
ton, N. C, 9,000 prisoners from Andersonville; 5,000 of them 
were dying from starvation and typhus fever. Their condition 



388 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



as described by Mrs. Hawley is too horrible to think of. Let us 
draw over such tales of horror the tender mantle of forgive- 
ness, and do our duty to those who yet remain. Mrs. Hawley 
was the bravest and tenderest of nurses. With a slight phy- 
sique and health never firm, she was ever buoyed by her in- 
domitable spirit. She sleeps well, and to-day her grave blooms 
bright with flowers. She who should have been in the prime 
of life, to cheer the declining years of her noble husband, is to- 
day a martyr to the cause they both loved so well. 

There were others who labored unceasingly in the hospitals, 
and who, from experience and training, were able to render 
valuable service to the soldiers. Their war experiences will 
never be written nor their names blazoned on the scroll of fame, 
but their prayers and ministrations lightened many a dark way 
to the unknown land, and many still live to bless and praise 
the noble Sisters of Charity. 




LIBERTY AND FREEDOM. 



ELIAS HOWE AND 1'HE ASSISTANT PAYMASTER. 

(Fro!/! the St. Paul Dispatch.) 




fOL. Stephen A. Walker 

srs is now United States 
^iH. district attorney at New 
'^^ York City. Walker had 
V*^ served the Union in the 
innocuous pursuit of assistant 
paymaster. One dark day 
while Mr. Walker was sitting 
in his office wondering how 
long he would be compelled to 
" loaf," on account of the ina- 
bility of Uncle Sam to pay his 
boys in blue, a private walked 
in and confronted him. The 
soldier belonged to a Connecti- 
cut regiment. Imagine the 
paymaster's surprise when the 
following conundrum was put 
to him by the soldier:— 

"Say, when do you expect 
to pay us men, anyway ? We 
haven't had a cent now in 
three months." 

The assistant paymaster 
glared at his visitor, and told 
him neither politely nor relig- 
iously that it was none of his 

business. This was far 

from satisfactory, and the sol- 
dier proceeded: — 

" But it is my business, and 
that is why I am here. The 



men are not treated with the 
slightest justice, and if the 
United States ain't able to pay 
them, why you can have a 
draft on a New York bank for 
the amount due my regiment." 

Of course there was no alter- 
native left to Colonel Walker 
but to regard the Connecticut 
private as a crank. It remained 
only to be sure just how dan- 
gerous a crank he was. 

"You'd better get back to 
your camp at once," said the 
paymaster. " Who gave you 
permission to come here, any- 
way? Come, now, get out, 
or I will call the guard and 
have you placed under arrest. 
Git!" 

Suiting the action to the 
word the doughty paymaster 
arose and proceeded to "fire" 
the private. 

"Hold on a minute: take 
your hands off! I tell you I 
mean what I say. I belong to 
the — th Connecticut, and I can 
afford to pay my regiment, if 
there's no objection. Some- 
thing ought to be done, and 
I'm willing to advance the 



390 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



money. My name is Elias 
Howe!" 

This gave an entirely new 
aspect to the case, and Pay- 
master Walker grew quite def- 
erential. The man who stood 
before him was the famous 
inventor of the sewing ma- 
chine. He could pay his regi- 
ment all their back pay ; he 
had the will, and he had the 
money, too. Colonel Walker 
thought an apology was de- 
manded. The apology was 
given and Elias received it 
with the air of a man who had 
but little to forgive. 

" Well, colonel," said he, 
"when this trouble is over I 
want you to step down to New 
York sometime and see me." 

The "colonel" lived then in 
Vermont, and when the war 
was closed he managed to find 



himself in New York. He hkd 
started a law office ; that is to 
say, he helped to occupy the 
office of a few friends of his. 
Business was not specially 
active. One day Walker 
thought he would step in and 
see whether Elias Howe re- 
called the misadventure of the 
war. Two years had then 
elapsed. Elias Howe was 
there and his memory was 
good. They sat down together 
and talked. Howe was from 
Massachusetts, Walker from 
Vermont. The Howe Machine 
Company had just been organ- 
ized. Walker was appointed 
its attorney. With an office in 
every city, town, and hamlet 
in the civilized world, no won- 
der the Howe Machine Com- 
pany was the foundation of 
Walker's fortune. 



Grant's Riclnnond Campaign. 



Line of Battle Near Riclnnond. 



'^ip'HE introductory planned by Grant's 
campaign against Richmond was the 
movement of a cavah"y force around the 
right to demolish the depots of the 
enemy. 



First Colors Over Court-House, 
Atlanta. 



'^[^HE 60th N. Y. and 111th Penn. 
Regts. are entitled to the credit of 
first raising the stars and stripes over 
the Court House at Atlanta, Ga., when 
ir^^neral Sherman captured the city, 
September 1, 1861. 



J[N October, 1861, the 16th N. Y. 
Heavy Artillery Regt. claimed the 
honor of forming in line of battle nearer 
to Richmond than any other regiment in 
the Union service had done. 



Tlios. C. Fletcher the Youngest War 
Governor. 



milOMAS C. FLETCHER was prob- 
ably the youngest of all the war 
governors. He was the first republican 
governor elected in a slave state (1864), 
and the first native Missourian elected 
governor of Missouri. 



TORBERT IN THE YaLLEY. 

SEPTEMBER, 1864. 

His ^ Jollity ^ in -j^ Camp * and ^ Daring ^ in * Fight. 



GETTINO KVEN WITH SHERIDAN, 



Woodstock and Wiiicliester.— The Surprise at Cedar Creek Neatly Prevented. 

By JOHN DANBY, Coles's Maryland BaUalion, Attached to Sheridan's Cavalry Corps. 




"HEN General Sheridan 
relieved General Hunter 
in the Shenandoah val- 
ley, in 1864, I was or- 
dered to report to cavalry 
headquarters to do scouting 
duty. I was told to report to 
General Torbert, who was in 
command of the cavalry of 
Sheridan's army. I reported 
to the staff officer of the day 
and was told to " wait until 
called for." I had waited 
about two hours when I was conducted into a room where I 
saw a good-looking, slenderly built man, about thirty years old, 
standing at a table on which were some maps and official look- 
ing documents. He wore a dark blue sailor shirt, black cor- 
duroy riding breeches, and a pair of cavalry boots. A loose 
flannel coat, with a general's silver star embroidered on the 
collar, indicated his rank. This officer I took for General Tor- 
bert. He nodded in answer to my salute and continued his 
conversation with a little black-eyed swarthy man, who was 
lying on a camp-cot smoking. This man was roughly dressed 
and in his shirt sleeves. I took him to be a staff officer. I was 



392 CAMP AND FIELD. 

wrong. They were talking about the effect of the hard pikes 
in the valley on the horses' hoofs, and the wear and tear on 
horse shoes. 

Presently the officer of the day came in and said: '• Captain 
Bailey, from General Stahl's headquarters, wishes to report, 
general." " Tell him to come in." A tall, fine-looking young 
officer entered and saluted the general. The general said: 
'"Captain, I want some one on my staff who is familiar with 
the valley and who knows the people well, and I was advised 
by General Stahl to get you. I will have an order issued to 
have you reported on duty at my headquarters as aide." The 
captain was about to withdraw when the little man, who had 
a map in his hand, said: "Captain, how far is it to Green's 
Corners from this point?" The captain looked at him a mo- 
ment and then answered: "What Green's Corners do you 
mean, sir?" "Why, in the valley between Harper's Ferry and 
Martinsburg." The captain looked at the questioner a moment 
and said: " I have been in the valley since the battle of 
Antietam, but I never heard of Green's Corners before, and I 
don't believe there is any such place." The little man jumped 
up with the map in his hand, nervously tapping it with his fin- 
ger and said, sharply: "Well, sir, I will show it to you on the 
map; here it is; Torbert, send this officer back to his regiment." 
He then turned to me and said: "Scout, do you know where 
Green's Corners are? " " No, sir, I never heard of it." His eyes 
snapped and he looked as though he was about to kick me out 
of the room, when General Torbert, who had been looking at the 
map, said: "Why, Sheridan, you are all wrong; you have got 
a department map thirty years old. The new map has it down 
as Smithfield. The name has been changed." He looked at 
the map a moment and said: " Captain, I beg your pardon; I 
was wrong, take a seat. Scout, you may go." 

The next morning the command moved and for several 
months Sheridan made things lively in the valley. He began 
by marching all over it, and his army ate nearly all there was 
left for man and beast. He marched and countermarched until 
people began to say he was a little shy of Early. One day, 
however, he caught that general napping. Torbert had com- 
mand of all the cavalry in that battle, while Sheridan gave his 
attention to the infantry and artillery. In my opinion he man- 
aged it well, and the charge on the enemy's left in the after- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 393 

noon was a magnificent sight. There must have been G,0UO 
troopers, in a line of battle several miles long. When Torbert 
had everything ready the whole force moved forward, led by 
Torbert, Custer, Merritt, Averill, Lovell, and Mcintosh. It 
was something that one sees only once in a life-time. It is said 
that when our cavalry were seen getting ready for the charge, 
■General Rhodes advised Early to retreat, but he, like Hooker, 
had never seen many dead cavalrymen, and hence said: "Cav- 
alry be d — d, A good stiff skirmish line and a few guns will 
hold them off." But the cavalry rode over the infantry and 
captured his artillery, while his horsemen were chased by 
Averill to Hanging Rock Gap. There seemed to be a rivalry 
between Merritt, Custer, and other cavalry generals as to which 
should expose themselves to the most danger. They had a way 
of riding close down to see " the lay of the land," and a habit 
of going along the skirmish line with their staffs to find out 
how things were going on. Each general had a headquarters 
flag, generally cross sabers on a blue ground, or blue cross 
sabers on a red ground. The Confederates soon knew them 
and the way they would fling shot, shell, and carbine balls as 
they saw one of these flags, was demoralizing to those who rode 
near them. 

One of the first fights the cavalry had under Torbert was near 
Smithfield. The Confederates were in a piece of woods looking 
down on an open valley and seemed disposed to stay there. A 
strong skirmish line had been thrown forward, and our artillery 
were shelling the woods. Torbert and his staff were on the 
hill top overlooking the low ground and he concluded to ride 
down and investigate. I never mounted my horse with more 
reluctance in my life. I joined the general, riding about five 
yards behind him, but wishing it were proper to be several 
hundred yards in the rear, for it began to be hot. Shells were 
howling over our heads and the "biz," " biz/' of the bullets 
were humming about our ears in a lively manner. The enemy 
evidently recognized the general and were paying him their 
respects. All the time Torbert and the officers were quietly 
riding down, laughing and chatting together. Occasionally 
Torbert would ask me some question about the country in front 
of us. 

Suddenly my mare gave a leap that almost unseated me. and 
I discovered that she had been hit in the flank. She jumped 



394 , CAMP AND FIT7LD. 

about quite lively, and Torbert hearing the rumpus turned and 
called out: " What's the matter, Danby? You had better ride 
back and get another mount." Just then another bullet chipped 
a piece out of the butt of a revolver I had stuck in my boot 
top. I heard something clink, and Torbert said, laughing, 
" That's a bad dent in your saber scabbard." I had made up my 
mind that my mare was hurt very badly, and was going back 
for another mount, when I heard a thud like a dab of mud 
hitting a barn door and I knew that a bullet had struck solid 
flesh. The surgeon reeled in his saddle; he had been hit in the 
breast, and died before we reached the rear. One of Captain 
Moore's stirrup-leathers was cut away by a bullet. Torbert 
joined us soon after. Presently the whole line was charging, 
and we had a right sharp little battle. In this fight Captain 
Bailey had his left shoulder-strap shot off, having also lost one 
from the right shoulder during Milroy's retreat about a year 
before. 

The nature of my duties brought me into intimate contact 
with Torbert. After a scout in which I had gained information 
about the enemy, I could give a shrewd guess as to our future 
movements. I had to report to Torbert at once when I returned 
from a scout, no matter where he was or who was with him, 
and sometimes my experience with him was funny. He was a 
heavy sleeper, and when I reported at night I would have to 
shake him up, but he was always good natured. I went to re- 
port to him one night near Charlestown, after a three days^ 
scout up the valley. He was not in his tent, but the sentry said 
he saw him go towards a citizen's house, which stood about 
two hundred yards from camp. My orders were to report as 
soon as I returned, so I proceeded to hunt him up. I went to 
the house and recognized the familiar snore of the general com- 
ing from the front room up stairs. I found the door unlocked. 
I knew that the man of the house and all his children were 
deaf, and that it was impossible to wake them by knocking, so 
I opened the door and went straight to the general, whom I 
found sleeping on a high post bedstead. As soon as I touched 
him he was alert. Something in his surroundings so different 
from his usual camp quarters probably made him easier to 
arouse. He leaned on his elbow and listened to my report, 
which was quite lengthy. I expected that he would wake up 
the aide to write a copy of my report for General Sheridan, 



CAMP AND FIELD. 395 

which was generally done when the information was important, 
as mine that night was, but he did not. When I got through 
he asked how I found him and how I got in. I told him I heard 
him snore and finding the door unfastened had simply to fol- 
low the sound. He turned over in bed with a suppressed laugh 
and I left him. 

Torbert's next battle was purely a cavalry fight. It was 
in October, about a month after the Winchester fight. The 
cavalry had returned from up the valley and was in camp 
about Fisher's Hill. General Torbert had taken possession 
of the house of a Mrs. Hendricks, near Strasburg, for his 
headquarters. The wagons had reached headquarters for the 
first time in several days. When dinner was announced they 
were all in and soon hard at it. As the last bone of a twenty- 
five pound wild turkey was disappearing, in burst General 
Sheridan. I knew as soon as I saw him, that he was mad 
•' clear through." The bright light of the dining room came 
through the open door into the hall, and the loud talking and 
laughing of the staff drowned all other sounds. Sheridan went 
in upon them like the ghost in Don Giovanni. He stood in the 

doorway and exclaimed: "Well, I'll be d d! if you ain't 

sitting here stuffing yourselves, general, staff, and all, while the 
rebels are riding into our camp! Having a party, while Rosser 
is carrying off your guns I Got on your nice clothes and clean 

shirts! Torbert, mount quicker than h 1 will scorch a 

feather! " 

Turning away, Sheridan mounted his big black and dis- 
appeared in the darkness. Just as General Torbert was about to 
ride off, one of Custer's staff reported that while Custer was 
moving down the back road some country wagon loaded with 
contrabands had been captured by the enemy; and a broken 
blacksmith's forge with a broken wheel had also been picked 
up at the same time. Some demoralized officer had magnified 
this loss into the capture of a wagon train and a battery of 
artillery, and Sheridan hearing of it, had, in his usual impul- 
sive style, struck the first head that offered. General Torbert 
was angry. In a few moments I was riding up the valley with 
orders to go into the enemy's lines, find out all about them, and 
to report by daylight. It would take a pa.ge to tell of the small 
adventures of that night. At dawn I reported. The enemy's 
force consisted of Rosser's " Laurel Brigade," each trooper 



396 CAMP A.ND FIELD. 

wearing a sprig of laurel in his cap. Our command moved up 
the valley, Merritt on the pike, and Custer on the North Mount- 
ain road: a strong skirmish line in the advance. 

Rosser had fallen back, stubbornly contesting every foot of 
the ground, and dead and wounded cavahymen were beginning 
to come to the rear. The general had just sent his staff otf 
with orders for ever3'thing to move forward vigorously, and the 
increased firing was showing the effect of the order when Gen- 
eral Sheridan rode up on the hill. He was as gentle as a lamb, 
and quietly and pleasantly remarked: "Well, Torbert, you 
seem to be having a little amusement this morning,'' *' Yes," 
replied Torbert, '' we are going to try and recapture all those 
guns, wagons, and men you were telling us about last night." 
Sheridan answered, " It seems I was a little hasty last evening, 
Torbert." "I should say so," said Torbert, sarcasticall}'. 
'• Have you any orders to give? '' *' No; everything seems to be 
going all right," said Sheridan, when Torbert mounted, and. 
saluting his superior, rode off at full speed to the front. In a 
few moments the bugles were sounding the charge and away 
went Rosser and '* his gallant band'' whirling up the valley. 
Our cavalry chased the enemy through Woodstock and Edin- 
burg, capturing a dozen pieces of artillery (all Rosser had) and 
many of his men. 

On the day before the battle of Cedar Creek Torbert sent me 
over into Loudoun county to see if a plan could not be hit upon 
to capture Mosby. I learned at Front Roj^al that all furloughs 
and leaves had been stopped in Early's army, and that all men 
absent from their commands were ordered to report for duty at 
once. This indicated a quick move, so I concluded with this 
information to gallop back to headquarters, thinking it impor- 
tant. I had gotten nearly to our lines when I was halted. To 
the demand, "Who goes there?" I replied, "Jack Carter of 
Mosby's command." If the troops proved to be Confederates I 
was on scouting duty for Major Mosb}'. If they were our men 
I could satisfy the officer in command by my passes and the 
countersign, which I always knew. I was ordered to dismount 
and lead my horse forward and soon found myself in the midst 
of a large force of Confederates. I was questioned very closely 
but I answered all questions with the greatest sang froid. I 
said I was from Maryland; giving my real residence, for I knew 
every man from my township in both armies. I satisfied him 



CAMP AND FIELD, 397 

that I was a true "grayback," and it ended in his writing a 
dispatch which I was to carry to Mosby. I begged hard for a 
fresh horse; for I expressed fears that my horse 'would not hold 
out to reach Mosby if ridden fast; so the general gave me a 
note to a wealthy citizen who lived near Berryville, requesting 
him to lend me a horse for the good of the cause. I subse- 
quently used it. As soon as I got away I struck for headquar- 
ters as fast as I could go. I had to move considerably out of 
my course to flank the enemy and came very near being fired 
upon by our picket post on the pike, near Middletown. It was 
some time before I could satisfy the officer in charge of the 
picket post of my identity. 

I reached General Torbert's tent at the dawn of day. It took 
some time to awake him; in fact all the officers at headquarters 
were sleepy that morning, as they had "a walk-round" the 
night before. I succeeded in getting the general awake and 
told him my news. He read the dispatch to Mosby, from Gen- 
eral Gordon, urging him to join Early's command at once with 
all the men he could muster. The letter added that Early 
would attack with his whole force at daybreak. 

Just then the alarm was given and in a few moments the 
staff officers were riding in all directions with orders. Heavy 
firing was heard on the right, where the Sth Corps were in camp, 
and, by the time the wagons were loaded and ready to move, 
the enemy could be seen on the pike about three hundred yards 
off, driving the infantry before them. The headquarters 
wagons were ordered to the rear, and the Durham cow, which 
provided milk for the officers' coffee and which was tied to one 
of the wagons, was killed by a stray bullet and dragged about 
half a mile before the driver had time to cut the rope that fast- 
ened her. The cavalry, the 0th Corps, and a portion of the 19th 
Corps fell back in pretty fair order. By the time Sheridan 
reached the army, after his famous twenty mile ride, the 
enemy had been checked. 

With his usual good luck, Sheridan was on hand just 
in the nick of time to take advantage of the situation; 
but I always thought that General Torbert deserved much 
more credit than he got for the success of the battle. He had 
skillfully got his cavalry and artillery out of the tangle and had 
the army in good shape for fighting. He had sent to stop the 
infantry stragglers who were breaking to the rear. Of course,. 



398 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



as soon as Sheridan arrived and took command, he led, and, 
probably, the great victory we gained that da}"- was owing 
mainly to him. Very little change was made by Sheridan in 
the disposition of the troops. When our army in turn attacked 
the enemy it was not a very hard fight, and our casualties were 
not heavy considering the complete success of the day. 



The Blue and the Gray. 

FRANCIS M. FINCH'S TENDER POEM OF UNION. 



Y the flow of the inland river, 
;{C^ Whence the fleets of iron have 
•^ fled, 

Wliere the blades of the grave-grass 
quiver, 
Asleep ai-e the ranks of the dead. 
Under the sod and the dew, 

Waiting the judgment day — 
Under the one, the blue ; 
Under the other, the gray. 

These in the robings of glory. 

Those in the gloom of defeat, 
All with the battle-blood gory, 
In the dusk of eternity meet. 
Under the sod and the dew, 

Waiting the judgment day — 
Under the lam-el, the blue; 
Under the willow, the gray. 

From the silence of sorrowful hours 

The desolate mourners go, 
Lovingly laden with flowers, 

Alike for the friend and the foe. 
Under the sod and the dew. 

Waiting tlie judgment day — 
Under the roses, the blue ; 
Under the lilies, the gray. 

So, with an equal splendor, 

The morning sun-rays fall, 
With a touch, impartially tender, 
On the blossoms bloom ino- for all. 



Under the sod and the dew, 
Waiting the judgment day — 

Broidered with gold, the blue ; 
Mellowed with gold, the gray. 

So, when the summer calleth 

On forest and field of grain, 
With an equal murnuir falleth. 
The cooling drip of the rain. 
Under the sod and the dew. 

Waiting the judgment day — 
Wet with the rain, the blue ; 
< Wet with the rain, the gray. 

Sadly, but not with upbraiding. 
The generous deed was done ; 
In the storm of the years that aro fad- 
ing, 
No braver battle was won. 
Under the sod and the dew. 

Waiting the judgment day — 
Under the blossoms, the blue ; 
Under the garlands, the gray. 

No more shall the war-cry sever, 
Or the winding rivers be red ; 
They banish our anger forever 

When they laurel the graves of our 
dead. 
Under the sod and the dew, 
Waiting the judgment day — 
. Love and tears for the blue ; 
Tears and love for the grav ! 



A FIERCE DUEL FOR LIFE. 



DESPERATE NAVAL CONTEST ON ALBEMARLE SOUND. 

1864. 
By W. P. DERBY, STth rv./Iass. 




PLYMOUTH, N. C, had fallen, and the rebel iron-clad 
Albemarle now threatened the various positions held 
by the Union troops in North Carolina. Some of the 
smaller naval vessels had been withdrawn from the 
sounds, and these had been replaced by the " double- 
enders," Sassacus, Tacony, Mattabessett, and the 
Wyalusing, each armed with an iron prow. Commodore 
Melancthon Smyth, an officer of acknowledged experience and 
daring, had been placed in command of the entire inland naval 
fleet. The Albemarle was now the center of interest. It was 
an iron-clad modeled after the famous Merrimac, and was 
armed with two one hundred pound Brooks guns, rifled, and 
these so placed as to be used in any direction. 

At 4 P.M., May 5, 18G4, the steamers Mattabessett. and 
Wyalusing were at anchor at Bluff Point, near Edenton Bay, 
when they were warned by the Miami and Whitehead that the 
ram Albemarle was in the sound. They sailed at once and 
soon saw the ram attended by two small steamers, the Bombshell 
and Cotton Plant. Our entire fleet at this point was composed 
of wooden vessels, and what they lacked in this direction in 
contesting with the iron monster, must be made up in strategy 
and daring. The United States steamer Miami opened the 
conflict just below Edenton bay. The Mattabessett and 
Sassacus followed, with broadsides, but their missiles bounded 
from their mailed antagonist like rubber balls. The sharp- 
shooters upon the two small steamers opened a harassing fire 
upon our gunners, but those vessels were instantly brought 
to by a broadside, and the crews made prisoners. It was 
soon seen that the guns of our fleet made no impression upon 



400 CAMP AND FIELD. 

the Albemarle, and Commander Roe, of the Sassacus, was given 
permission to attempt to run it down. With thirty pounds of 
steam and throttle wide open, the Sassacus, at a speed of ten 
knots, rushed for its antagonist, and, striking it amidships, 
crowded it heavily upon its side. 

At the moment of collision, a hundred pound shot passed 
through the Sassacus from stem to stern, but without material 
damage. A black muzzle again protrudes from the foe, but a 
Parrott gun is trained upon it, and before the hostile gun can 
be fired, a ponderous shot shivered its muzzle. The contestants 
were within ten feet of each other — the powder from each 
blackening its antagonist. It was "broadside to broadside," 
and "yard-arm locked to yard," while the crew of the Sassacus 
threw shot, shell, and hand-grenades into the ports of the Albe- 
marle. Gun answered gun in quick succession, while sharp- 
shooters were working death on either side. Another gun pro- 
trudes from the ram, and another Parrott is trained upon it, 
and both discharge together. But, hark ! A sound more fear- 
ful than belching cannon or bursting shell, strikes the ear of the 
Union crew. The enemy's shot has pierced the boiler of the 
Sassacus, and instantly the steamer is filled with scalding 
steam. Scores are writhing in the burning mist, but the brave 
gunners stand to their guns, and ply their ponderous missiles 
upon the mailed sides of the foe. 

It is a duel for life, and the divisions stand to their guns with 
a gallantry unequaled since the days of Decatur. At length, one 
of our one hundred pound shot crumbles against the port of the 
iron craft, and wedges it securely against further use. Still our 
batteries continue their incessant pounding against the foe, 
but the Sassacus's wheels refuse to revolve, and it drops help- 
lessly away from the Albemarle. When the steam and smoke 
had cleared away, the Union crews saw the Albemarle retreat- 
ing towards the Roanoke river. The prow of the Sassacus had 
pierced the hull of tlie Albemarle, and all haste was being made 
by the latter to reach Plymouth. Nineteen had been severely 
burned and one killed by the scalding steam, and though the 
burns were deep and painful, they forgot their sufferings and 
cheered lustily over their victory. 




' bllhklUANb kIDH. 



SEPTEMBER 19, 1864. 

*THE SURPRISE AND STAMPEDE.— A BATTLE LOST AND WON AGAIN. ^ 




The Cavalry Leader's Appearance and How He Turned llie Tide. 

By WILLIAM F. MACKAY, 5th Cavalry Division. 

■^'^'*'""^^^^^^^'^^^'"^^^^^'^'*'^^^'^'^'^'*""^\ .^ny, c^^/ ^S^f -K^^ --^^ ^^^.f ^^^^^^^^^'^^^^'^^^^^^^^^'^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^'^ 

[HE Union forces in the Shenandoah Valley^ up to the 
summer of 1864, seemed to have all the ill and none of 
^ the good luck enjoyed by other armies. This state of 
affairs was changed when General Sheridan assumed 
the command of the forces in the val- 
\ej0 His presence encouraged every 
one, and we felt that the old game of 
racing up and down the Shenandoah 
was over. After having severely 
handled Generals Early and Breckin- 
ridge, at Opequan and Fisher's Hill, 
besides several severe cavalry en- 
gagements, our army pursued the 
enemy to Port Republic, and capt- 
ured most of their train. We then turned back by easy 
marches, destroying many grist mills and fine barns filled with 
grain and forage, followed at a safe distance by a small Con- 
federate cavalry force under General Rosser. The burning of the 
large flour mill at Port Republic presented a rare sight. The mill 
was fired contrary to orders, as the owner was a Union man 
and had been assured that it would not be burned. The over- 
shot wheel outside the mill continued to revolve, and after the 
weather-boarding had been burned off, all the machinery inside 
could be seen in motion, until the flames had burned every 
support away. A large barn at the village of Woodstock was 
burning as our rear guard passed, the sparks from which had 




402 CAMP AND FIELD 

fired several houses close by. There being no one but old men, 
women, and children in this place, by common impulse our 
men dismounted, and saturating carpets with water, hung them 
from the upper windows to save the adjoining buildings. 

After incessant marching and countermarching, during the 
summer and fall, the men were delighted at the prospect of 
going into winter quarters. It was with a feeling of security that 
we went into camp on the east side of Cedar Creek, about the l(Jtli 
of October, 1864. The infantry lay upon three ridges, Crook's 
8th Corps in front, Emory's 19th next, and Wright's Gth Corps 
on the third ridge. The first cavalry division was commanded 
by Major-General Merritt. The dashing Custer's division was 
upon the right flank and rear, while Powell's division was 
upon the other flank, picketing the north fork of the Shenan- 
doah river, in the direction of Front Royal. It was one of the 
rumors of our camp that our army was to go into winter 
quarters right there. How this rumor originated no one knew, 
yet all seemed to accept it as a fact. 

The night preceding the surprise and battle of Cedar Creek 
was a beautiful one. Part of our regiment had been detailed 
to do guard duty at the headquarters of the 1st Cavalry Division. 
On this particular night, I was sentry on Post No. 1, in front of 
the commanding officer's quarters. I went on duty at two o'clock 
in the morning. The air was chilly and a heavy fog had fallen. 
It was about three o'clock a. m., when I was startled by lively 
picket firing, accompanied by muffled yells. After waiting a 
few moments to be certain that I was not dreaming, I awoke 
the bugler at headquarters. The firing had increased, and 
above all could be heard the well known yell of the enemy. 
We concluded to waken the general and report the facts. 

Going to his marquee, I put my head inside and said: "Gen- 
eral, there is something wrong on our front." He came outside 
in his night clothes. The rattle of small arms was now con- 
tinuous and heavy. He seemed to comprehend everything in 
an instant, and said: "We're surprised; bugler, blow 'boots 
and saddle."' Then turning to me he said: " Sentry, you are 
relieved. Report to your company." 

Soon everything and everybody was in confusion, each ask- 
ing the other what it was all about. Cavalry calls were heard 
in every direction, while the long roll of the infantry was plainly 
audible. It was a complete surprise, particularly to the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 403 

infantry on the extreme front, many of the men being shot 
or bayoneted in their beds. No one thought General Early 
nearer than Staunton at least. 

Men who had made such elaborate preparations for spending 
the winter at this camp, showed their disgust and disappoint- 
ment by savage growls, and language not found in books of a 
pious nature. 

As the fog lifted, there began a rush, scramble, stampede, or 
whatever it may be called. The men passed by on the run, 
singly and in squads, many with only their underclothing on, 
others partly dressed, while but very few carried their muskets. 
Their one thought was, get to the rear and get there quickly. 
As daylight increased, the firing became louder, and the flash 
of artillery added to the general confusion. Most of the fugi- 
tives belonged to the 8th Corps, and their officers vainly begged, 
threatened, and commanded them to halt and form. Appeals 
were in vain. Every man seemed intent upon going on the 
old maxim: ''Every fellow for himself, and the devil take the 
hindmost." The tide of men came surging by, and we moved 
back some distance and formed a single line, the men being 
placed at short intervals with orders to turn back every man or 
shoot him on the spot. 

We succeeded in stopping a large number, and they began 
making breastworks of rails. By this time the 6th and part of 
the 19th Corps had formed in line of battle, and gave the enemy 
something to do besides plundering our camps, but we con- 
tinued to fall back slowly in the direction of Middletown. The 
turnpike was jammed with army wagons. General Sheridan 
had gone to Martinsburg, and it was the sentiment of all pres- 
ent, that had he been with the army, this stampede would not 
have happened. Near Middletown, one of our batteries took 
position on an elevation near the pike, our regiment being its 
support. 

At this time, when all felt sure that our army would be 
eitlier captured or cut to pieces, Sheridan himself appeared on 
the field. Mounted on a large black horse, he came on a gallop, 
every appearance denoting anger and excitement. As he 
passed, he shouted: "Steady, lads, we'll give 'em h — 1 yet. 
This wouldn't have happened if I had been here." 

The men gave him cheer after cheer. Every one felt that 
somehow or other, he would bring us safely through. Army 



404 CAMP AND FIETD. 

trains were turned into the fields and parked, and stragglers 
ran voluntarily to the front. Sheridan's staff had failed to 
keep up with him and now came galloping in, one by one. 
Firing gradually ceased — our lines being withdrawn a short 
distance and reformed, while the cavalry were massed on the 
flanks, Custer on the right, and Merritt on the left. 

About 2 P. M. the battle was renewed. The 3d Brigade, 1st 
Division, after being twice repulsed in charging a stone wall, 
succeeded in clearing the fence and getting in the enemy's 
rear. It was in this charge that General Lowell, of the regular 
cavalry, fell. Custer having succeeded in turning their flank 
at about the same time, both divisions charged down in their 
rear. This was more than they could stand. They started on 
a run, shouting: ''We're flanked I we're flanked!" They 
were broken and demoralized far worse than we had been in 
the morning. The pursuit was kept up until darkness set in, 
and the next day we all occupied our old camps again. We 
recaptured all our artillery, and took much of the enemy's, 
besides many prisoners and much war material. Thus ended 
one of the most remarkable battles in history. There is no 
doubt that if General Sheridan had not come, our army would 
have been badly whipped, and the coast left clear for another 
invasion of Maryland and Pennsylvania. The faith of every 
man in General Sheridan was strong. His presence was an 
inspiration. The men believed in him, and showed their faith 
by again engaging and defeating the once victorious enemy. 

treneral Grant on Southern lude- General Buford's Credit at Gettys- 
pendence. burg. 



]g.ENERAL GRANT says in his book ^HE Comte de Paris, in his book on 
that if the war had lasted one year the battle of Gettysburg, awards 

longer than it did the North would the credit to General Buford, of com- 

probably have become exhausted, and pelling Lee to fight on a field that was 

been compelled to acknowledge the in- to be fatal to his plan of invasion, and to- 

dependence of the Confederates. the fortunes of the Confederate cause. 



WHO SHOT STONEWALL JACKSOl!? 

By MA.J. ALEXAM>Kl{ >V. SELFRIDGE. 4(!th Penii. Regiment. 



o'clock 
of our 
out, 



as 



|UR 1st Brigade, 1st Di- 
3\2^ vision 13tli Army Corps, 
wearing the ""red star,"' was 
at the extreme right of the 
corps, on a line nearly parallel 
with the plank road, in the 
woods, not far from the open 
plaza which surrounded the 
Chancellor House, and was pro- 
tected by strong breastworks 
erected on the morning of the 
2d of May. En echelon with our 
right, was the 11th Army 
Corps. About four 
we were ordered out 
works, and, as soon 
were under a heavy artillery 
fire and the target for many 
invisible sharpshooters. We 
were awaiting orders to ad- 
vance, scarcely having re- 
turned the fire of the unseen 
infantry, when an aide of Gen. 
A. S. Williams rode up and 
said to Gen. Joseph Knipe. our 
brigade commander: "The 
general's compliments and he 
orders that you get your bri- 
gade back to the works you 
left as quickly as possible." 
The colonels ordered each com- 
pany commander to take his 




■h^^m^ 



command into the works he 
built '"by the right of com- 
pany, to the rear into column, 
double quick." During this 
time we heard a racket on our 
right, which turned out to be 
Jackson's famous charge upon 
the 11th Corps. I gave the 
order at once, and got the start 
of the rest of the brigade. 
When we reached the opening 
in our works, we came in con- 
tact with an irregular column 
of Confederates running from a 
direction diagonally opposite 
to us, and from where the 11th 
Corps was supposed to be. 



406 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



The Confederates we took to 
be prisoners captured by the 
11th Corps, or a body of them 
coming in to give themselves 
up, and we cheered them lus- 
tily. How they regarded us 
is difficult to conjecture, as 
they neither hindered nor mo- 
lested us. Probably they had 
gobbled so many '• blue coats"' 
with so little trouble that they 
deemed us already their game. 
However, bent upon obeying 
orders, we pushed forward un- 
til we came to the line built by 
us and halted about thirty or 
forty feet from the works. 
The next moment the enemy 
arose on the other side of our 
works, with guns at an aim, 
and a long haired individual 
yelled: " Surrender, ye Yankee 

! " Major Strauss drew his 

revolver and fired and then we 
caught it. The major and my 
1st sergeant fell on either 
side, and those who could 
broke to the rear. The plank 
road was only two or three 
hundred yards back of the line 
and there I rallied what was 
left of company H. While so 
engaged Gen. H. W. Slocum, 
corps commander, rode up and 
I informed him that our works 
were occupied by the enemy. 
He seemed amazed and saying 
little or nothing, returned. 
Two brass Napoleon guns gave 
notice that they proposed to 
sweep that plank road, and we 



moved out of range, in the 
direction of the shanty, in close 
proximity to which Stonewall 
Jackson received his death 
wound two hours afterwards. 

It had now grown nearly 
dark. General Knipe rode up 
and wanted to know why I 
was not where I had been 
ordered. I gave him excellent 
reasons but he raved, and in 
language more forcible than 
polite, said he knew better, 
and went in. He did not go 
far, or stay long when he got 
there. We heard a volley and 
he came out faster than he 
went in, nor did he stop to ex- 
plain as he hurried by minus 
his hat. I then told my men 
to crawl cautiously in and get 
the major out if possible, as I 
did not believe the enemy were 
this side of the works. We 
were successful in this effort. 
We then fell back on a line 
with the shanty, and I made 
my way down the plank road 
to see how things looked. At 
the edge of the wood on the 
road were two pieces of artil- 
lery and a heavy line of battle 
of General Berry's command. 
An officer of his staff heard 
my report and ordered me to 
feel forward along the plank 
road to discover the location of 
their skirmishers. We ad- 
vanced but a. few yards when 
we heard voices and saw the 
dim outline of horsemen, rid- 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



407 



ing about. One of my men 
said it was too good a chance to 
shoot at a staff of officers to 
let it slip, and fired. The rest 
of my men instantly blazed 
away at them. Then followed 
a volley from beyond the horse- 
men and from the line of our 
works occupied by the enemy 
on our left, besides also an un- 
pleasant firing from some of 
our men in the rear. An un- 
usual commotion was noticed 
in the direction of the shanty, 
but we dared not fire as it 
brought upon us a fire from all 
directions. It was in this first 
fire that we believed General 
Jackson received his mortal 
wound. My men always main- 
tained that they dropped some 
of the officers off their horses. 
The fire from the Confederate 



troops, which followed ouis, 
may have done it; the fire 
over us, from our troops at the 
rear, may have done it, but not 
likely, as they were almost too 
far off. As my little band of 
skirmishers opened the affair 
near the spot designated by 
some of those who were with 
General Jackson at the time 
he fell, and as we saw and 
heard as plainly as the dark- 
ness and circumstances would 
permit what we had done, and 
had talked of the "big guns" 
we brought down that night 
in the woods near the shanty 
long before we knew the loca- 
tion of Jackson's wounding, 
we think that among others 
that we put Jiors de combat 
that night was "Stonewall" 
Jackson. 



Gallantry of General Grover's 
Division. 



First and Only Female Mnstered 
Into Service. 



JF wounds are a test of gallantry, the 'On'HE only female ever mustered in 

history of the war cannot excel the and out of tlie United States service 

glory of Grover's division of the 1st as a woman was Katy C. Brownell — the 

Corps in the fight at Winchester, Sep- heroine of New-Berne, and wife of 

tember 19, 1864. Every fourth man in Robert S. Brownell, of the 1st, after- 

the division was killed of wounded. wards the 5th R. I. Regt. 



First Federal Troops Raised in 
Tennessee. 



Col. P. T. Moore. First Confederate 
Officer Wo'duded. 



'Cjp'HE first Federal troops raised in 
Middle Tennessee were raised by 
Gen. A. C. Gilleni, who later in the war 
defeated and killed the guerrilla John 
Morgan. 



^HE first officer wounded on the 
Southern side at the first battle of 
Bull Run, was Col. P. T. Moore, of the 
1st Va. Regt. He died in February, 
1883. 



PLA,r^K!J^G ?^TLiA,r^T^. 



HOW WE MANEUVERED HOOD OUT OF HIS STRONG 
HOLD BY CUTTING HIS LINE OF SUPPLY. 



BY W. F. HINMAN. 65th OHIO. 



^^^'^'^^^^'^''^^'^^ 'URING the latter part of July, 1864, Sherman's army 
fastened its tenacious grip — a grip that never let go — 




upon the city of Atlanta. For eleven weeks we had 
been "inching along," down from Chattanooga, skir- 
mishing, fighting, flanking, bivouacking and picketing, looking 
only forward and always driving or maneuvering the enemy out 
of his chosen positions. Every day we heard the whistle of bullets 
and the scream of shell. Every day brave men were killed on 
the skirmish line, in the trenches, or amid the roar of battle. 

On the 20th, 21st and 22nd of July the Union army closed in 
upon the doomed city. It paid a high price for the advantage it 
gained, for thousands were killed or mangled in the Lattle of 
Peach Tree Creek and in that mighty grapple between Hood and 
the Army of the Tennessee, in which fell the knightl^^McPherson. 
But, as Rosecrans said at Stone River, "brave men must be killed 
in battle." With tender hands and tearful eyes the soldiers 
buried their dead, sent their wounded to the rear, and with 
dauntless courage looked into the muzzles of the cannon that 
blazed defiance from the intrenchments around Atlanta. 

For nearly six weeks we lay behind our strongly fortified lines. 
At last we had struck "something solid," but every man in that 
army had an abiding faith that sooner or later "Uncle Billy" 
would "git thar, Eli." We dug "gopher holes," into which we 
crawled for protection whenever the rebel artillery began to 
heave over their surplus iron. We had our regular "tricks" of 
duty, by day and night, on the picket line. At many points this 



CAMP AND FIELD. 409 

was so close to that of the enemy as to make it decidedly un- 
healthy. The pickets were changed at night, to avoid the bullets 
of the "Johnnies." The latter had no better liking for the mis- 
siles of the "Yanks," and did the same thing. 

At length Sherman got tired of sitting idly before Atlanta. He 
wanted the city, and wanted it "bad." It was the goal of the 
long and bloody campaign. He determined not to sacrifice his 
army b}^ assaulting the strong defenses, crowned with cannon 
and bristling with bayonets — and we were all mighty glad of it. 
We began to expect a grand flank movement and it came. Late 
in August the word was given one evening to "fall in" with all 
our belongings on our backs ready to march. Orders were fil- 
tered down from headquarters, through the company officers, to 
do everything as quietly as possible. There must be none of the 
yelling that usually gave a zest to whatever the boys were called 
upon to do. Of course we did not know "what was up," but 
we had long since learned to do as we were told and ask no ques- 
tions. So we filled our haversacks with all the "hard-tack and 
sow-belly" they would hold, buckled on our accouterments, rolled 
up our blankets and "pup " tents, threw them over our shoulders 
and formed on the color line. Of course after we were all ready 
we had to wait for hours before the order came to "pull out " — it 
was always so. We lay around, talking in whispers, ready to 
spring at the word. 

It was nearly midnight when we got away. All night we stum- 
bled through the woods, over stumps and stones, every man fol- 
lowing his file leader and wondering what the day would bring 
forth. In that forest full of brush and brambles, it was literally 
as dark as the proverbial "stack of black cats." We pushed on 
at a rattling gait. It was evident that we were going some- 
where, and every soldier knew, without being told, that we were 
flanking Atlanta. 

On and on we tramped, and soon after daylight, some fifteen or 
twenty miles below the city, we struck the railroad which was 
the chief avenue of supply for the rebel army in Atlanta. Sol- 
dierly instinct told us at once what the job was that "Uncle 
Billy" had laid out for vis to do. The regiments and brigades of 
the Fourth corps — the operations of which I am narrating — were 
drawn up near and parallel with the railroad, the line stretching 
away for two or three miles. The cavalry was stationed to do 
picket duty. Batteries were placed in position and the guns un- 
limbered ready for duty. 

"Stack — Arms !" Unsling — Knapsacks I" 

"Break ranks — March !" 



410 CAMP AND FJivLD. 

These orders were quickly given to the "walk soldiers." 
Sledges, crowbars, picks and other implements that could be used 
in the work of destruction were distributed and we were just told 
to "go in." The boys did go, attacking the railroad with the 
utmost alacrity. Man}^ a time we had our "cracker line " cut by 
the Johnnies and this was the first opportunity' ever presented for 
tis to get even. Language can but fainth' describe the scene 
that ensued. The day was hot, and under the scorching sun the 
sweating and dust-begrimed soldiers pounded and pried and lifted, 
tearing up the rails and pulling the ties from the ground. Others 
w^ere engaged in collecting dry brush and rails and lighting a 
long row of fires. The ties were piled upon the fires and across 
each a dozen rails were laid. Merrily the men poked and fed the 
roaring fires until the ties were destroyed and the rails w^ere red 
hot in the middle. The latter were lifted off b\^ strong arms and 
were quickly put into such condition as to be utterly useless for 
a railroad. Some, by means of claw bars, were twisted and 
doubled up like doughnuts. Others were bent around trees and 
were left to cool. The boys w^ere in high spirits and laughed and 
yelled and sang and jested with infinite enjoyment. The officers, 
of course, did the heavy standing around and bossing the job, 
while the men did the work — and they did it well. As soon as a 
brigade had finished the w-rccking in its front, the men "fell in" 
and moved dow^n the road to renew the attack at another point. 
All day the work of destruction continued. At night the road foV 
miles and miles was a smoking ruin. The men w^ere thoroughly 
exhausted, for the}' had marched all the previous night without 
sleep ; but they were happy, and as they prepared their frugal 
suppers around the gleaming bivouac fires, they filled the air with 
their shouts. That night the Confederates burned and blew up 
everything they could not take away and evacuated Atlanta. 
Then how the soldiers j-elled ! After four months of fighting and 
marching the great campaign was ended — the goal was won. 
When the army started from Chattanooga, early in Ma}', the 
boys knew they would take Atlanta, just because Tecumseh 
Sherman said they would. Their faith in their leader was some- 
thing sublime. Patiently and uncomplainingly the}' did what- 
ever he told them to do with never a doubt of the result. The 
boys knew Sherman as far as they could see him by the high, 
white standing shirt collar that he always wore. Whenever he 
rode along the line or upon the flanks of a marching column, he 
was greeted with yells and shouts that Avere the best possible 
index to the feeling that existed toward him in the ranks of his 
dauntless and imconquerable army. 



BATTLE OF ALLATOONA. 



OCTOBER 5, 1864. 

Sherman's Burning Words: ''HOLD THE FOUT!'* 



General Corse tells General French He is Ready for the 
"Unnecessary Effusion of Blood" at any Time. 



J J. ^A/■HITNE"y, M. D., Assistant Surgeon, 18th "Wis. 




US in force. 



|UR garrison consisted of 1,100 men. We had the 
4th Minn, and 18th Wis., together with a part of 
the Gth Wis. Battery, all under the command of 
Colonel Tourtellotte, of the 4th Minn. Hood had 
made his desperate flank movement. He well 
knew that we were guarding the main depot of 
supplies for Sherman's grand army. Allatoona 
Pass was the key to Sherman's position, and we 
knew that we held it. The enemy was now upon 
He had destroyed the railroad between us and 
Sherman's pursuing columns; he had stormed with shot and 
shell our block-house, and had taken prisoners over one hun- 
dred of its brave defenders. And now he was ready for us. 
General Corse, with nine hundred men, had been ordered down 
from Rome to our relief. Late in the evening of October 4, 
18G4, our pickets were driven in, and we were apprised of the 
near approach of the enemy. It was midnight. The rumbling 
of cars, the puffing of engines, the neighing of horses and 
braying of mules, all told us of the arrival of General Corse. 
I remember that we now felt very confident, for General Corse 
was in command. It is true that our forts were badly located, 
for the hills to the west and north of us were so much higher 
that tlicy looked down upon us. All night long our command 
was busy in silent preparation. 

At daylight, October 5, on looking across the bottom lands 
south of us, we could see the enemy planting his batteries. 



412 CAMP AND FIELD. 

About eight o'clock he opened lire, tlirowing shells into and 
about our main fort, which was on the west side of the pass. 
"We laughed at this futile bombardment. 

Soon the cannonading ceased, and an officer from General 
French came under a flag of truce. The writer happened to 
hear what was said both by General Corse and the rebel officer. 
After saluting the general the latter handed him a paper from 
General French, which read about as follows: "General: I now 
have you surrounded. My force is far superior to yours. To 
prevent the unnecessary effusion of blood I summon you to sur- 
render immediately." General Corse coolly and firmly said: 
" Say to General French that I will not surrender, and that he 
can begin the unnecessary effusion of blood whenever he 
pleases." The aide returned, and within ten minutes the gray 
columns were seen marching up and over the hills by the left 
flank, until they reached the railroad to the north of us. We 
knew the battle would now begin. 

The enemy soon let us know what he meant by his unearthly 
yells and the murderous rattle of his musketry. He charged 
on our thin lines and carried them by the weight and momen- 
tum of numbers. He rushed over our slim defenses, treading 
down our men in the trenches and fairly kicking them in the 
face. One after another of our outposts were driven in. 
Officers came dashing to General Corse saying: " "We have lost 
our position; we cannot hold our posts against such numbers! 
We are already all cut to pieces!" Not many minutes elapsed 
before the enemy were seen rallying for a grand charge on our 
interior defenses and the fort itself. General Sherman was on 
Lookout Mountain, away northward fifteen miles. Signal flags 
were continually waving, up and down, to the right and left, 
carrying the burning words of Sherman, "Hold on! Hold the 
fort! Never give up! " The other returning: " We never will — 
we cannot surrender. I am short an ear and part of a cheek 
bone, but all h— 1 can't whip us." General Corse was every- 
where—walking around outside and on top of the parapets- 
going through the embrasures — everywhere speaking words of 
assurance and plucky defiance. "It is hot, boys, but remember 
Vicksburg! We shall not surrender!" The Avriter was stand- 
ing near the general when he was about to again mount the 
parapets. A ball struck him (Corse) and he fell backward 
bleeding. Soon the word passed that our general was wounded. 



CAMP AND FIELD. • 413 

Surrender seemed now inevitable, but only while the general 
lay there fainting. A surgeon gave him a little stimulant and 
a handkerchief wet with spirits was placed around his torn tem- 
ple and ear, and he rallied from the swoon and arose to his feet. 

"H — land d n! who talks of surrender?" said he. "We 

shall never surrender! We will die right here, every man of us, 
rather than give up! " Again hope reigned. The general placed 
Henry rifles in the trenches and under the parapets, ready for 
hand-to-hand fighting. We were none too soon, for the oppos- 
ing forces mingled in a bayonet charge and our men were all 
driven into the fort. Here hand-to-hand they fought, and the 
enemy encountered the Henry rifles. Down the embankments 
they fell into the trenches. Once more they were repulsed. 
Our little fort, the area of which was about 6,000 square feet, 
was full and crowded with dead and wounded. Our guns were 
all silenced from rapid flring. Colonel Tourtellotte was badly 
wounded, and could not fight any more. It was noon, and we 
still held the fort. We had not yet won, for General French 
had come upon us with 7,000 veterans — the flower of Stewart's 
corps — of Hood's army, and still had reserves. But he knew 
that Sherman was near. He must rally once more for one last 
grand charge — one greater and better than any or all before; 
for this one must succeed, this must determine the fate of our 
post. The doom of General Corse and his army seemed sealed. 
Our batterymen were all slain or wounded, but we had plucky 
infantrymen left. We were out of ammunition, too! What 
shall be done? Captain Bruner, of Co. K, IStli Wis., solves the 
problem. He crawls over the walls of the fort, crosses the deep 
cut on a foot bridge to the other fort, secures his grape and 
canister, brings it to us upon his back, all the time under heavy 
fire from the enemy. Now our big gun is once more swabbed 
and loaded with grape and canister, and by the hands of the 
brave Captain Bruner. He was then only a boy, but he showed 
the pluck and heart of a lion. Now the Confederates were 
ready. Their fixing of bayonets, the swift double-quick rally- 
ing behind the old house, told us that perchance our fate hung 
on this final charge. 

But Bruner's gun was now wheeled into the embrasure where 
so many brave battery boys had gone down, and he poured the 
grape and canister through and through that old house! What 
a sight! The rebels were seized with a panic. They could not 



414 



CAMP AND FIELD, 



be rallied, and rushed over the hills amid a last volley from our 
rifles. Our men almost cried for joy, for the battle was vv^on. 
And now came the sad work of the surgeons. We were but 
few in number, but our labor was fearfully great. Two hmnane 
Confederate surgeons were left with us, and together side by 
side for six days and nights we labored I We did what we could 
to alleviate the havoc of war. Amid the silent gloom of the 
morning, while looking on our dead, there was joy for us, for 
General Sherman came up, giving us a hearty greeting. All 
know his congratulatory order. To me they are the finest 
words he ever uttered or wrote. Our commander appreciated 
the work we had done. General Hood did not replenish his 
commissariat, neither did General Sherman lose his 1,500,000 
rations, for did he not immediately go on his grand march to 
the sea? 



T:^he Sentry's Challenoe. 

[These verses are part of a long poem written by Capt. J. Lee Knigbt, and read at the Topeka 
Celebration of General Grant's Birthday.] 



J /^ALT ! who goes there? 
rK A friend— 

^ He leads the serried hosts, 
Their ranks reforming ! 
Their chilled and fluttering hearts 
With Hope's new fires rewarming. 
Pass, friend — 
The Lord hath answered prayer. 

Halt ! who goes there ? 

A friend — 
The victor, laurel ci'owned — 

To home and peace returning. 
No more of war nor strife, 

Nor gleaming camp fires burning ! 
Pass, friend — 
Great blessings many share. 

Halt ! who goes there ? 

A friend — 
Behold ! once more he comes, 
A. chieftain's mantle wearino;! 



The Nation's loving voice 

Sends greeting to the daring — 
Pass, friend — 
Thy mission hath been rare. 

Halt ! who goes there ? 

A friend — 
Life's mission rounded out, 

In meed of fame and glory 
Thy cup of honors full, 

The world takes up thy story ! 
Pass, friend — 
Love's blessings with thee bear. 

Halt ! who goes there? 

A friend — 
A bent form racked with pain, 

A broken heart lies bleeding — 
While million prayers and tears 
For that loved life are pleading! 
Pass, friend — 
God keep thee in his car*. 



WAR G0RRESP0NBENTS. 




How They Fared, How They Worked, and What They Suffered. 

By WILLIAM M. BUNKEL, 1st Lieut. Battery H, 3d Penii. Artillery. 



f AR correspondents lead a particularly hard life, 
and the more so if attached to an unpopu- 
lar paper. How much injustice these men did 
can only be conjectured; how much benefit 
they gave to undeserving ones can best be ap- 
preciated by the men's actions in civil life. The 
New York Herald was the popular paper in the 
East; it would have twenty correspondents, captured or sent 
home, replaced within twenty-four hours. The Philadelphia 
Inquirer was the journal for the Middle States; the Cincinnati 
Gazette for the Middle-West, and the St. Louis Republican for 
the Southwest. The men representing these papers could do 
nearly as they pleased, but the others had to take it as they could 
find it. Their lot was bad indeed. I remember when advanc- 
ing up the Peninsula, that a correspondent who was on an 
unpopular paper was compelled to sit all night long beneath a 
baggage wagon during a most terrible storm and when there 
was plenty of room in many of the hospital tents in the immedi- 
ate vicinity. 

When there was no telegraphic communication it was in the 
interest of the paper to have some one in their employ who 
would carry the news by hand. At Fortress Monroe, in 1862, 
telegrapliic facilities were in the hands of the government; 
one could only send such messages as they would permit. The 
New York Herald, not to be outdone, organized a rapid transit 
of their own. A correspondent was stationed in Baltimore, 
then the stewards of the Old Colony Line of steamboats were 
hired to carry messages from Fortress Monroe to Baltimore; 
next was a correspondent at the "Fort" to forward matter as 
soon as possible. In this way considerable matter could be tel- 



i-U> CAMT WO in:i.iv 

oi^raphod from Ballimoiv ii tiio boat wore too late tor the train, 
it" on tinio. tho oonvspomlont sent a tnistod inosj^oiiiivr to Now 
York, thus saving an hour on tho mails. Tlio taoiUtios ot" those 
days wero not Avhat thiry are to-day, and ovory newspaper man 
well knows what an hour is worth in a well regulated news- 
paper otliee. In addition to tkese. every I'orps had one eor- 
respondent. or if short-handed one man sometimes had two 
or three eorps to attend to. All were under the orders of a 
eliief on the tield. and reported regularly every morning in the 
vieinity of Franklin's headqnarters. 

As an example, notiee the battle of Fair Oaks, and how the 
most mimite partienlars appeared in the Herald on the day but 
one following. Having been a newspaper man myself before 
the war broke ont 1 was able to appreeiate the wants and 
neeessities of these men; henee my quarters were always 
open to them. Sometimes T would entertain a half dozen of 
the brother --ehips" all at onee: at other times I would not 
see one of them for weeks. The Ihrald men were at my 
quarters when the first gm\ was tired at Fair Oaks. "There 
they go." was the ery. and immediately all was aetivity. 
Charles Farrell (^sinee dead) was the ehief on the tield at this 
time. In less time than it takes to write it. orders were issued 
for eaeh one of them to aeeompany sueh and sneh a eorps (it 
was astonishing how well they understood the position of eaeh 
eommand"), and in a twinkling all had mounted and were off. 1 
suppose they knew where they "vvere to meet again, fen- 1 after- 
ward found them on the sontli bank of the Chiekahominy. in 
the rear of Heintzelman's headqnarters. All were assembled 
around a pile of eraeker boxes and as busy as nailers, writing 
the partienlars of the fight then going on. As eaeh man fin- 
ished, he passed his manuseript to Farrell. and. mounting, rode 
away again to some distant part of the tield. 

At the battle of Fair Oaks we had been driven baek about a 
mile the tirst day. but on tlie second day we gave them a little 
"Hail Columbia." and in turn drove them baek about half a 
mile from where our outside line was tirst established. It was 
a most terrible fight. On a wooded eminence, a short distance 
below where our first line had been established, two or three 
batteries of artillery were stationed by Heintzelman. One 
section of two pieces was drawn ont from the woods and placed 
in the clear cornfield bevond. 



CAMP ANfj FIELD. i-1 7 

It was a dangerous position for a battery to be in without a 
support. The section had scarcely unlimbered when from the 
woods in their front there debouched Cheatham's Confederate 
brigade, who, in regimental front and four lines deep, came 
jjouring down upon the devoted section. " Fire with canister! " 
commanded the weak little voic^ of the young lieutenant, who 
commanded the section, and the Confederates .seemed to laugh 
at the two little six-x^junders opjiosing them. " Double-shot 
with canisterl " said tlie commander of the guns, and still the 
enemy came on and on, as if on parade. Not a musket was 
fired and the section kejjt booming away with terrible rajiidity. 
I had thought that the lieutenant and his section would turn 
tail to the foe, but he did not, but stood there and worked his 
guns w^ith the coolness of a veteran. All at once, with a yell, 
the enemy started on a double-quick, and in a moment more the 
section was captured and the lieutenant was a mangled corx»se. 

Now came the most terrible carnage I had ever seen. The 
capture of the section had greatly encouraged the foe and his 
lines swept on and uy the hill, until within about one hundred 
yards of the Union cannon. It was a magnificent sight. The 
lines had not broken yet, but kept onward as if marching for 
review. '• Fire! "' rang out from the woods, and a least a dozen 
cannon belched forth their storm of death. I can see it even 
now. Men in all the agonies of death piled like fence rails 
one upon another: their more fortunate comrades climbing 
over their mangled bodies to reach the guns. 

The magnificent lines of a moment before wavered, stood 
still, and then faded away, like snow before a summers sun. 
The charge was ended and but few, if any, lived to return. 
The field where the enemy had advanced was a slaughter pen, 
indeed. The dead and wounded lay in all directions, and not 
one of all the men who had advanced got back again. It was a 
gallant charge and a terrible re^julse, but to the noble lieuten- 
ant who had commanded the captured section, and who gave up 
his life to duty, was the credit of winning this battle due. The 
enemy lost about 1,500 men in killed, wounded, and prisoners. 
Our loss was 8 men killed and IG wounded. 

For two days I caught only fleeting glances of the corres^jond- 
ents. When all was over, Farrell came in with the papers of 
the day before. There were eight or nine columns of descrip- 
tion of the first day's fight, and in the next day's paper was an 



418 CAMP AND FIELD 

account nearly as long of the second, day's battle. It was won- 
derful, wonderful to see an account of the battle, all the way 
from New York, back on the field in so short a time. An even- 
ing shortly afterward, while smoking with Farrell, I asked him 
how he had managed to know so much about the battle and how 
he had got it to the paper with such promptness. "You see," 
said he, " we have our best men here. Each man knows what 
to do and does it with the quickest possible dispatch." 

He then related how he arranged the manuscripts of each 
man, put it into shape, corrected it as far as he was able, and 
then rode to the White House, where he chartered a tugboat 
and went to Fortress Monroe; how he there telegraphed as 
much as the authorities would allow and gave his package to 
the Fortress Monroe correspondent, and within three or four 
hours had retaken the tugboat for the White House, 

It was a mystery to me and has been ever since I A fight 
taking place four or five hundred miles away and yet, without 
telegraphic communication, the full particulars are spread 
before the people at home on the day but one following the 
occurrence. 

» 9 • 

AN INTKRKSTING WAR RELIC. 

From the Rome Se7ttinel, Ga. 



<i^J[^5> SMALL laighland terrapin was That was twenty years ago. In 1886 

yMJ^, captured in 1884 by a Chatta- when a party of ex-Union captives from 

nooga gentleman that carries on Ohio, who were making a tour of the 

the smootli surface of its belly the in- South, passed through Chattanooga, 

scription, carved in distinct characters : the terrapin was shown them and they 

" Union : Co. Iv, 'iOth Regt., Ohio Vols.; could not have shown more delight over 

November 18, 1864." It is supposed the meeting of an old friend. "He 

that some straggling Union soldier, be- was the pet of some of our boys," said 

longing to the command designated, one of the old soldiers, as he fondly 

captured the North Georgia quadruped patted the terrapin's back, while the 

and proceeded to make a living histor- tears filled his eyes and rolled down his 

ical tablet of the hard-shell little creeper, cheeks in great drops. 



SHERMAN AND JOHNSON. Col. Jackson's Grand Cavalry Charge. 



•^HE movements of the two armies of '*¥''HE charge of the 9th Ind. Cavalry, 
■^ Sherman and Johnston during the led by Colonel Jackson, at the bat- 
Atlanta campaign, is one of the most tie of Franklin, Tenn., was absolutely 
interesting and unique in all military the grandest thing of the kind dm-ing 
liistorv- I the whole war. 




THE BATTLE OF RESACA. 



A Thousand Jets of Flame Blend into Roaring Artillery. 

By C. E. BENTON, 150th New York Regt. 

HE battles of Lookout Mountain and Mission- 
ary Ridge had been fought and won, and 
thousands of prisoners had passed us in long 
trains of freight cars. The 11th and 12th 
Corps had been consolidated and become the 
30th Corps, Army of the Cumberland, under 
^ command of Hooker, 
When the soft, warm days of spring came it was made known 
that we had marching orders, and there was great stir in camp. 
Even the mules, which had grown fat and dull, caught the ex- 
citement and brayed " Joe Hook-er, Hook-ei\ Hook-ev" at the 
top of their unmusical voices. The swelling buds were putting 
forth their leaves, and the woods were fragrant with flowers, 
as we marched out of camp and turned our faces southward. 
Steadily, day by day, we marched southward, climbed the 
steep mountain, traversed its broad summit, clambered down 
its rugged southern face, and followed narrow valleys and 
crooked water courses until we came to the Tennessee river at 
Bridgeport, Ala. There we turned east until we reached Look- 
out Mountain, which we passed by a road leading up its west- 
ern face and around the north end. Three miles northeast was 
Chattanooga; east was Missionary Ridge, southeast was the 
old battle field of Chickamauga, mostly level and wooded. The 
Tennessee river washes the foot of Lookout Mountain, and 
turns west by a crooked course through the mountains. 

We descended the mountain to where the battle of Chicka- 
mauga was fought the fall before. Soon we came to trees cut 



420 CAMP AND FIEI IV, 

down by shell; nearly all of the trees were marked and torn by 
bullets and shells. Mounds of earth with the middle sunken 
in, showed where dozens of men had received scant burial. 
Here and there a foot protruded; or a hand with the skin dried 
to the bones was seen extended from a grave as if beckoning 
to us. Further on we came to numbers of bodies which had 
not been buried. Then we passed Chickamauga creek, where 
its wine-colored water flows between thickly-wooded banks. 
The name is said to be Indian, and signifies in their language, 
" River of Death." How did they know? 

Continuing southeast we confronted the enemy, and the roar- 
ing of cannon was heard in some direction every day. Between 
maneuvering and fighting, the enemy were forced or flanked 
out of every position until they were found intrenched at 
Resaca. There it was understood they expected to make a big 
fight. It was May 14 when we arrived and the crackling sound 
of firing on the skirmish line told that the two armies con- 
fronted each other. We were moved from place to place, but 
were not put in that day. At one place where we halted a 
body of men were digging graves. Not seeing any dead or 
wounded near, I inquired what they were doing, and was in- 
formed that ambulance corps had nothing to do, and as a heavy 
battle was expected, they were digging graves — for men not 
yet engaged in battle. Late in the afternoon the enemy at- 
tempted to take a battery at the left of our line, and the 1st 
Division, 20th Corps, was hurried in that direction. When we 
came near the firing, the division was formed on an elevated 
ridge, in line by brigades. The 3d Brigade, which was in front, 
passed down the slope into the open fields, and just as they did 
so the battery at our left opened fire. Looking beyond our line 
we saw the dusky line of Confederates advancing from the 
shelter of the woods and open fire. From our elevated position 
on the ridge we saw the whole action as plainly as if it had been 
a play on the stage. The slightly gathering gloom of twilight 
served to show the fire of their guns in bright flashes as they 
continued to advance. Our own line advanced a short distance 
in silence when suddenly there sprang from their front a thou- 
sand jets of flame. Thicker and faster grew the firing until the 
cracking of rifies blended into a roaring sound, accented by the 
heavy bass of the cannon. It lasted only a little while. The 
gray line was seen to waver, then scatter, and at last run back 



CAMP AND FIELD. 421 

in confusion, followed steadily by our line until the ringing 
notes of the bugle called a halt. Then the ambulances drove 
over the ground. The dead and wounded were both removed, 
and in an hour's time the only signs of a conflict were a few 
dead horses. 

Sunday the battle raged furiously, but we were not called 
into action until noon, when we were moved toward the left of 
the line. This was a move to flank the enemy and at the same 
time the Confederate forces were moving in the same direction 
to flank us. At one point the enemy were running across the 
road only a little distance in front. There were strict orders not 
to fire a gun and they escaped unharmed. Soon after we passed 
what had been a Confederate field hospital. A few of their 
dead were there, and one lay on the operating table. He may 
have died during an operation or perhaps have been killed by a 
stray bullet. Finally, we were formed in line on a little rise of 
ground in open fields, and threw up a slight defense. Soon the 
long gray line was seen approaching with a firm and even 
front. Upon coming within range they opened fire, and con- 
tinued to fire as they advanced. But the fire was returned 
with such steady, level volleys that they fell in dozens, and 
finally retreated in disorder. As the smoke cleared away we 
could see them forming for a fresh attack. This time they 
were more persistent and got nearer to our line than before, 
but were driven back again, leaving the field strewed with their 
dead and wounded. Just at the turning point, part of our line 
made a dash at the enemy, and returned with some prisoners 
and one battle-flag. Thus the flanking movements which the 
two armies attempted at the same time, counteracted each 
other. But our troops held the line they had taken. 

As the hostilities ceased at that part of the field, the task of 
removing the wounded to the rear commenced. There were no 
stretchers at hand, and we used blankets and half-tents. When 
you start with a helpless soldier in a blanket he seems to weigh 
about one hundred pounds; after you have carried him half a 
mile you will think he weighs a ton, — especially if the course is 
in range of the enemy's batteries. We found where the sur- 
geon had established himself in a hollow in the woods, and 
there we deposited our burdens, and set to work under his 
orders. Attendants in fleld hospitals witness many pitiful 
scenes. Not as in general hospitals, here are sunburnt men 



,422 TAMP AND FIELD. 

stricken suddenly in their full vigor. Here are the freshly torn 
muscles and dripping blood, and tragic death scenes, 

I remember a fine-looking, intelligent fellow, hardly twenty- 
one, who was mortally wounded. His frequent request was 
for water, and seeing that he could last but a few moments, I 
knelt by his side and at short intervals put a little in his mouth 
with a spoon. Finally his lips could not open to receive the 
water or even to speak the word, but the pleading look came 
into his eyes, and understanding it I dipped my finger in the 
water and moistened his lips. To my surprise, they parted in 
a sweet, pleasant smile. I glanced quickly, but saw that I was 
looking at the half closed windows of an empty tenement. 
That happy smile had spanned two shores. 

At another time there was a strong man of twenty-five, who 
sat or reclined on the ground. If you would see his exact posi- 
tion, look at the "• Dying Gladiator." He called frequently for 
the doctor, and an attendant pointed him out to the surgeon. 
He replied that he had examined the man and could do nothing, 
as he was bleeding to death. The attendant returned and 
spoke in a low tone to the dying man. Many fresh wounded 
men were being brought, and help was scarce, so the surgeon 
called the attendant. He sprang to his feet and left the dying 
soldier — alone. His regiment was at the front, and among the 
many within sound of his feeble voice he was an entire stranger. 
He occasionally raised his head and spoke weakly, but no one 
had time to give him attention. I noticed after a little that the 
pallor of death had spread over his strong features. He settled 
lower and lower, and finally sank back on the ground. There 
was a gurgling sound, slight convulsive motion of the limbs, 
and all was over. 

Night found us tired and fasting; hut with crackers and 
coffee, and a few hours' sleep, we arose at dawn to find that 
the enemy had retreated during the night. The battle was. 
won. 



The Stars and Stripes Over Savannah. KENTUCKY BRIGADE. 



:aii- 



fHE stars and stripes were first un- '•Y'lIE first Kentucky brigade orgs 
furled over the city of Savannah by ized by Gen. George II. Thomas 

Acting Master R. N. Morrill, of the was the first brigade of the Army of the 



gunboat Sonoma. Cumberland, and its nucleus. 



A ROMANCE OF THE WAR. 



-fA Tragedy at Gettysbnrg, Followed, after Many Years, by a Wedding, 4- 



^S^OON after the battle of Gettysburg, the 7th Ind. Regt. 
was stationed near Waterford, Loudoun county. An 
«c:v^#c acquaintance sprang up between Lieutenant Holmes 
<^~l^^ of that regiment, and Miss Lizzie, daughter of John B. 
Button. 

The correspondence between the two, which ensued upon 
their separation, led to their betrothal. In an assault upon the 
Confederate works at Petersburg, the young lieutenant was 
killed. A few days later came a letter from his betrothed. A 
friend and comrade of the slain officer, Josepli M. Dunlap, 
knowing the relation between the two. returned the letter, at 
the same time apxjrising Miss Button of the fall of her lover. A 
letter of thanks from the young lady for the mournful attention 
paid her. gave occasion for the interchange of several more 
epistles. Mr. Bunlap was deeply impressed with the style of 
the letters, having previously seen and admired the writer. 
The tide of war rolled on until the torn battle-flags were furled 
at Appomattox. 

The correspondence ceased. Mr. Bunlap went to his home in 
Indiana and fulfilled a long standing engagement by marrying 
the daughter of a neighbor, but within a year or two this lady 
died. Mr. Bunlap went forth into the world a lone man. and 
in his travels found himself one day near the house of his former 
correspondent. A train of pleasant recollections followed. 
Was she married? No. A postal card opened the way to a 
renewed correspondence. A visit to the home of his corre- 
spondent followed. They talked of her dead lover, of his gal- 
lantry and manly bearing, and how he fell at the head of his 
men at the very point of the Confederate bayonets. Then they 
talked of something else, and matters flowed on so easily, 
smoothly, and naturally, that in a few weeks Mr. Bunlap found 



424 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



himself at his Indiana home busily engaged in preparing for 
the reception of a new mistress. And soon the little town of 
Waterford was all a blaze of light and a scene of general re- 
joicing, for the lady was popular and beloved by all. In the 
midst of a large assemblage the ceremony took place which 
united Miss Button and Mr. Dunlap in the bonds of matrimony. 



■"4^' ••'^-' '>!v5>- '<f^ 



:^- 'z^- ■'.^- ■''j^- 



(3 foWier'g Fre.ge.nee ©f flliFid. 



[T was during the siege of 
Wagner, and the Union 
'^^ parallels were but a few 
hundred yards away from the 
grim black tubes that ever and 
anon " enbowled with out- 
rageous»noise and air — disgorg- 
ing foul their horrid glut of 
iron globes." A line of abatis 
was to be built across a clear 
space, in point-blank range of 
the Confederate gunners and 
sharpshooters. " Sergeant," 
says the officer in charge, "go 
pace that opening and give me 
the distance as near as possi- 
ble." Says the sergeant (for 
we will let him tell the rest of 
the story), " I started right off, 
and when I got to the opening 
I put 'er like a ship in a gale of 
wind. With grape, canister, 
round-shot, shell, and a regular 
bees' nest of rifle balls, whizzing 
around, I just think there must 
have been a fearful drain of 



ammunition on the Confeder- 
ate army about that time. I 
don't know how it was, I did 
not get so much as a scratch, 
but I did get powerfully scared. 
When I got under cover I 
couldn't "er told for the life of 
me whether it was a hundred 
or a thousand paces. I should 
sooner guessed a hundred 
thousand. Says the captain: 
' Well, sergeant, what do you 
make it?' Soon's I could get 
my wind, says I: "Give a 
guess, captain.' He looked 
across the opening a second 
or two and then said, 'A 
hundred and seventy-five 
paces, say!' 'Thunder! cap- 
tain,' says I, ' you've made a 
pretty close guess. It's just a 
one hundred and seventy-one.' 
And," concluded the sergeant, 
after the laugh had subsided, 
"that's how I got my shoulder- 
straps." 



i=i* 



The Capture of General Marmaduke, 

BATTLE OF OSAGE, AFTER A THRILLING CHARGE, 



OCTOBER 24. 1864. 
J. F". IM ON A. HAN. 



'HE battle of the Osage 
was fought on the latter 
^.v part of October, 1864. 
There were two engage- 
ments, one in the morning and 
one in the afternoon. 

During the morning fight 
the present governor of Mis- 
souri, General Marmaduke, 
was taken prisoner. I was a 
participator in the charge 
made by the Union forces, and 
an eye-witness of his capture, 
although his identity was not 
known for a half-hour after- 
wards. The country for miles 
in the Osage region is unbroken 
prairie; the ground undulat- 
ing; the hills and hollows 
seeming to run parallel. It 
was, therefore, a model battle 
ground, and, in reading the 
accounts of the English cam- 
paign in the Soudan, I was 
reminded vividly of our pur- 
suit of the Confederates 
through Missouri. 

Just after crossing the dry 
bed of the Osage river we 




heard skirmishing, and soon 
came in sight of the enemy 
formed in line of battle and 
waiting for us. I was captain 
of Co. H, 10th Mo. cavalry 
Colonel Bentine, commander^ 
and General Pleasonton, bri- 
gade commander. My positio'i 
was on the left, as we drew up 
in line. During my four years' 
service I had seen many won- 
derful sights, and had been in 
some very close quarters. But 
never had I seen 9,000 horse- 
men drawn up in battle array, 



426 



CAMP AND FIT7LD 



and the sight was a tlirilliug- 
one. The enemy were well sup- 
ported by artillery. While we 
sat waiting for orders, Generals 
Pleasonton and Curtis* came 
riding down between the lines. 
As they passed me I heard 
Pleasonton say, "" We must 
come together now." These 
words, and the ominous looks 
of the cannon, assured me that 
a serious moment was at hand. 
I had $G00 about me, and I 
put it into an official envelope. 
I then directed it to my sister, 
and gave it to our sijrgeon, 
with the request to forward it 
in case of my death, or, as the 
boys were in the habit of saying, 
in case I did not "come out.'' 

At last the bugle sounded 
the charge and the long lines 
surged but no advance was 
made. 

Again the bugle rang out on 
the air, and again the lines 
wavered. 

Suddenly a rider on a white 
horse burst through the ranks 
and rode at the foe. Like an 
avalanche we followed. In 
the excitement every fear van- 
ished, and we rode through 
the enemy, dispersing them 
right and left. They had fired 
one volley but had had no time 
to reload. 

Their right wing was com- 
pletely cut off and surrounded. 



Having no other alternative 
they surrendered, and dis- 
mounting them we hurried 
them to the rear. On my way 
back with the prisoners, we 
met General James Lane going 
to the front. He stopped, and 
pushing his way through the 
guards and prisoners to a tall, 
fine-looking Confederate, held 
out his hand and said, " How 
do you do. General Marma- 
duke?" The man shook his 
hand warmly, and after a few 
words General Lane walked 
away taking Marmaduke with 
him. When taken General 
Marmaduke had on the hat a 
star and crescent. Colonel, 
Bentine noticing the orna- 
ments cut them from his hat 
as trophies of war. The star 
when last heard from was in a 
museum in Chicago. General 
Marmaduke had no insignia 
of office from which he could 
be distinguished from the com- 
mon soldiers, having a simple 
gray uniform and a large 
slouch hat. 

The Confederates made a 
stand again in the afternoon, 
but before our onslaught again 
retreated. That night horses 
and men lay down and slept 
together. So utterly worn 
were we that no one thought 
of eating; going to sleep was 
much easier. 



S— SL 



=^^-^ 



.^-S 



•fiootiM of SoFxaferioajg Sofi. 



p Eullefe iagseg ^hpsygh W\^ BsdY, E>ieF6ii^g §ig liyRj 



One of War's Strange Happening's in the Mine Run Campaign. 

BY WARREN WALTERS. 



i^N the morning of the 26th 
of November, General 
Gregg, in command of tlie 
2d Division of Cavah-y. 
crossed the Rapidan at Ely's 
Ford. They advanced some 
miles and halted for the night 
at Whitehall. Early the fol- 
lowing morning. Colonel Tay- 
lor's brigade proceeded over 
the plank road toward Orange 
Court House, the 3d Penn. in 
advance. Two miles brought 
them face to face with a large 
body of the enemy, hidden in 
a dense wilderness. Colonel 
Taylor dismounted his advance 
and deployed them in line. 

He succeeded in driving back 
the enemy some distance to a 
park of strongly fortified ar- 
tillery. The general saw he 
could no longer force a retreat, 
for he felt confident that he 
was facing a heavy body of 
infantry. During a partial 
cessation of the fire, Colonel 




Taylor rode along the whole 
front hoping to obtain some 
idea of the character and num- 
ber of the foe. The dense 
undergrowth, however, pre- 
vented. A squadron of the 1st 
Mass.. commanded by Lieut, 
C. A. Longfellow, was engaged 
in this skirmish. Young Long- 
fellow joined the general in his 
endeavor to discern the char- 
acter of the force contesting 
their advance. A sharp volley 
was fired, directed evidently 



428 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



at the two officers. The gen- 
eral paid little heed to the 
whistling musketry until he 
heard some one cry, ' ' General, 
I'm shot! " Turning quickly the 
general made his way back 
and found the gallant young- 
officer, a bullet having passed 
clear through his body. Lift- 
ing him tenderly from the 
earth, the general hurriedly 
moved him to the rear, the 
life-blood marking every step 
of the way. General Taylor 
could not repress thoughts of 
the sorrow the wire must carry 
to tlie poet's home. The wound 
must prove fatal, for the ball 
had pierced one of the boy's 
lungs. Yet it could be but a 
moment's sigh, for in the next 
moment the general ordered a 
charge along his whole line. 
With a yell, the men pressed 
forward, eager to avenge the 
death of their young officer. 
The result of that onset was 



the capture of almost the entire 
force of the enemy. 

This scene had almost grown 
rusty in General Taylor's mind. 
He thought of Lieutenant 
Longfellow as a victim of the 
cruel war, and had described 
the young officer's death in 
" Fighting o'er his battles by 
the quiet hearth," The death 
of the great poet himself was 
flashed over the wires. Among 
the names of the children who 
gathered about the coffiii ap- 
peared the name of C. A. Long- 
fellow. It seemed incredible 
to General Taylor that he could 
be alive. A letter was dis- 
patched and until an answer 
should come all must be doubt. 
A letter came — brief, sad, and 
subdued, but the doubt is doubt 
no longer. C. A. Longfellow 
is no other than the Lieuten- 
ant Longfellow, shot down 
in a Virginia copse, April 27, 
1863. 




v^/t) 



FIRST SHOT IN VIRGINIA. 



'•ip'HE first shot fired in Virginia was 
on the 7th of May, 1861, when the 
steamer " Yankee " was fired upon. It 
took place at a point contiguous to 
Yorktown on the Gloucester shore, and 
after the bombardment of Fort Sumter 
it was the first powder burnt in the 
war. 



Rapid Firing at Cedar Creek. 

^T the battle of Cedar Creek, on the 
'^ 19th of October, 1864, the firing 
was the most constant and rapid ever 
heard on this continent, except at the 
battle of the Wilderness. 



Death of John A. Piatt. 

qp'IIE shot that killed John A. Piatt 
was tlie last rebel shot fired from 
the rebel works at Port Hudson. 




Destruction of the Albemarle. 

OCTOBER, 1864. 

THE MOST DARING NAVAL EXPLOIT OF THE WAR. 

"VV. p. DERBY, 27tU Ivlass. 



X the evening of October 27, 18G4. Lieut. W. B, 
Gushing, U. S. N., and a crew of thirteen men 
ascended the Roanoke river on a steam launch, te 
destroy the ram Albemarle, at Plymouth, N. 
A mile below the town the channel was obstructed 
by the wreck of the steamer Southfield, and by sunken 
schooners. A guard of twenty men at this point were 
captured without the firing of a gun. These were sent 
down the river, and about 3 a. m. the 28th, Gushing reached a posi- 
tion opposite the ram which he discovered to be fastened to a 
wharf and surrounded thirty feet distant by a line of logs 
firmly chained together. Gushing's launch was armed with a 
boom on which to suspend a torpedo and also with a howitzer. 
Keeping close to the river bank opposite the town and the ram 
—it was a low heavily wooded bank well adapted to shade his 
launch — he gained a point above sufficient to get the advantage 
of the current, when he turned, and when discovered by the 
enemy was bearing bow on to the ram. The enemy sprang 
their rattle, rang their bell, and commenced firing upon the 
launch. Lieutenant Gushing gave them two charges of can- 
ister and with full steam bore down with such speed as to 
break the log obstructions around the Albemarle. Lowering 
the boom of the launch with a torpedo attached, by a vigorous 
and dexterous push he forced it under the ram and exploded it. 
With the explosion came a dense fiood of water engulfing 
the deck, and also a plunging shot from the Albemarle, 
which crashed through the launch. While freeing himself 
from the log obstructions, the enemy opened a vigorous mus- 
ketry fire upon Gushing and his crew, and repeatedly demanded 
his surrender. Finding the launch fast sinking the brave lieu- 



430 CAMP AND FIELD. 

tenant gave the order, "every man for himself/' threw off his 
coat and shoes, and, jumping overboard, swam for the opposite 
shore. The launch sank within fifteen feet of the Albemarle. 
The Union crew had followed the example of their gallant 
commander, but most of them were either captured or shot 
while in the water. Only Lieutenant Gushing and a colored 
sailor succeeded in reaching the opposite shore. They pene- 
trated some distance into the swamp and remained secreted 
until late in the afternoon. The enemy searched the swamp 
diligently during the early part of the day, and were several 
times in close proximity to the fugitives, but being buried to 
the neck in water the reeds and brush easily hid them from 
view. Late in the day, Lieutenant Gushing approached the 
river, and, to his great joy, found that the Albemarle was 
sunk, the smoke stack standing as a monument over its watery 
grave. With a light heart he made his way to Middle river 
(from a short distance above Plymouth the Roanoke flows in 
three channels to the sound). After a considerable search, a 
skiff was found and he reached the U. S. gunboat Valley 
Gity at the mouth of the river at 11 o'clock p. m. He was 
immediately taken to Gommander Macomb, and received hearty 
congratulations over his escape and the success of his advent- 
ure. This act of Lieut. W. B. Gushing was one of the most 
daring and creditable of the war, and resulted in the reoccupa- 
tion of Plymouth by the Union forces two days later. 

Lieutenant Gushing, at this time, was hardly twenty-one 
years of age. He was of slight figure, fair, with clear cut 
features, and a clear grayish-blue eye. His life was full of 
daring adventures, and when the war closed he was one of the 
heroes of the hour. He bore himself with great modesty, and 
died in 1874 honored of his country and lamented by all. 



SAVED BY GRANGER'S CORPS. JEFF. DAVIS NOMINATED. 



JX T the battle of Chickamauga the 'Wi^- George W. Bagby, a private in Co. 

^ day was saved by a charge of A, 11th Va., said he was the very 

Granger's corps, Id by Col. G. M. L. first man to nominate Jeff Davis for 

Johnston of the 13tli liid. Cavalry. President of the Sonthern Confederacy. 



WAR'S HUMOROUS SIDE. 

A Whole Train of Soldiers Attacked by a Tipsy Colonel. 
Ludicrous Sxanipede. 

B-2- -XKr. SCOXT. 



'UST before the battle of Gettysburg, a detachment 
of Confederates made a raid into the rich grazing 
fields of West Virginia, to secure cattle and 
,c^ horses for Lee's army. They advanced 
>M^ towards Clarksburg, where General Roberts 
'^ was stationed, with about G,00() Federal troops. 
Tliey did not attempt to take Clarksburg; in 
fact, did not want to do it if it were possible. 
The Confederates simply desired to tear up the 
track of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. One of the places 
which they intended to strike was West Union, a small village, 
twenty-two miles west of Clarksburg. West Union was gar- 
risoned by some state militia, called out to help "wipe 
out " the raiders, and they were commanded by a colonel who 
resided there. The colonel was in the habit of taking period- 
ical sprees, and, when in that condition, feared neither man or 
devil. He was informed of the intention of the raiders, and it 
happened that he was on a regular tear at the time. He girt 
his sword about him, swore he was not going to have his 
property taken, and that he would wipe the raiders out of 
existence. 

The day passed, and no enemy came. When night came, the 
colonel concluded that he would guard the town himself. He 
called in his forces and ordered them to go into camp and go to 
sleep; then with sword in hand he paced to and fro through 
the streets, keeping his passions at white heat by frequent 
libations from his liquor cellar. General Roberts concluded 
in the evening that he had better send the colonel re-enforce- 




432 CAMP AND FIELD. 

ments, and, as it was dark, he dispatched a train of cars from 
Clarksburg, with troops for West Union. With all lights 
extinguished, the train quietly glided along the railroad track, 
and West Union was reached about midnight. They could not, 
however, elude the vigilance of the intrepid colonel. The night 
was as dark as pitch, and all was silent as death, as the darkened 
train slowly pulled up to the platform, and the troops com- 
menced to disembark. The colonel's time had come. Nerving 
himself for the conflict and waving his sword over his head, 
he dashed upon the supposed foe, shouting as he came up: 
" Get out of this, you d — d rebels, or I'll kill you all." and 
commenced cutting and slashing among the troops. Gabriel's 
horn would not have been a more complete surprise than the 
colonel's gallant charge, and the soldiers gave back in dismay. 
The colonel, seeing his advantage, continued to denounce them 
for their rebellious conduct, and unheard of impertinence. He 
was finally induced to stay his hand; explanations followed 
and the colonel and the officers fell back on the cellar and 
drank each other's health in good old apple jack. 

One of the amusing incidents of the war that occurred at 
Clarksburg, Va., did not terminate happily. Soon after hostili- 
ties began, a New York regiment arrived at Clarksburg, said 
to be the largest regiment ever seen in the field. How so many 
men got crowded into one regiment was more than any mortal 
could tell. It was said to number some 1,700 men. The colonel 
commanding the regiment had little confidence in the staying 
qualities of his men, should they be called upon to engage the 
enemy. They had never been in a battle and did not seem to 
be spoiling for a fight. It was rumored that the Confederates 
were advancing upon Clarksburg and the colonel determined 
to test the courage of his troops. He secretly took a dozen 
soldiers a couple of miles from the town and concealed them 
on an eminence above the road, and told them when he brought 
his regiment opposite them to fire, and to give the " rebel yell." 
He then returned to town, formed his regiment, told them the 
enemy was advancing on the town, and that they must go out 
and meet him. With blanched cheeks, the men rode after their 
colonel until the ambush was reached. About this time the 
fear among the men that they would meet the enemy had done 
its work. Suddenly the roar of musketry was heard, and a 
dozen balls went whistling over their heads. As though 

26 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



438 



actuated by a single impulse, every man rushed down the 
road as though pursued by a million devils. 

Away they went, belter skelter, all bent upon placing them- 
selves under the protection of the fortifications at Clarksburg. 
It was a race such as never had been seen in that country 
before, and a similar one may never be seen again. The road 
was narrow and they went crowding and crushing along, each 
trying to pass all the rest. At length they dashed into the 
streets of the town, but the stampede did not stop there. They 
dashed on through the streets to reach a fort on the hill at the 
opposite end of the town. While running through the streets the 
horse of one of the soldiers in front stumbled and fell, and in 
less time than we can write it, the frightened men and horses 
had passed over the rider and horse, and trampled them to 
death. The men did not stop until the fort was reached. 
Thus terminated, with the loss of one life, the most ludicrous 
and disgraceful stampede witnessed during the war. 



MEMORIAL. 



GEN. ULYSSES S. GRANT. 

Born 27th April, 1S22. Died 23d July, 1S85. 



^^N iron soldier ! 
*^ unfurled 



When red vrar 



O'er all the myriad leagues of 
the New World 
Its desolating banner, when fierce hate 
And brother-sundering feud first shook 

the state, 
Two noble names shone chiefly, Lee and 

Grant, 
These twain, titanically militant, 
Shocked like conflicting avalanches. 

Xow 
Peace, brooding o'er the land with placid 

brow, 
Sees the great fighters fallen. He at last, 
The calm, tenacious man, who seemed to 

cast 
Defiant looks at Death, the stoic stern, 



W^hom long-diawn anguish could not 

bend or turn, 
Lies prone, at peace, after such stress of 

grief 
As must have found the summons glad 

relief. 
An iron soldier. If, as foemen say, 
IMixed with true metal much of earthly 

clay 
Marred the heroic in him of full state. 
His land will not record him less than 

great. 
Who, in her hour of need, stood firm 

and stayed 
The tide of dissolution. Unafraid 
The people's heart, the patriot muse, 

may vaunt 
The golden service of Ulysses Grant. 



DECEMBER -25, 1864. 

A SCENE NEVER BEFORE EQUALED IN NAVAL WARFARE. 

, BY JOSEPH C. CANNING. 





ORT Fisher's reduction was a matter of grave 
consideration with the Federal government, so 
\il^P vital was it to the life of the Confederacy, As 
early as October, 18G3, Maj.-Gen. John G. 
2S" Foster, commanding at- New -Berne, N. C, 
assured me that the fleet might expect 10,000 
men in November, to assist in attacking the fort; but disasters 
to our army prevented this glad expectancy. It was not until 
December, 1864, that the work was attempted, at which time 
some 7.000 men under Major-General Butler in transports, and 
8,000 officers and men in about sixty vessels of the navy, under 
Admiral Porter, were sent to capture the fort. The prelude 
consisted of a very novel experiment. An old dismantled craft, 
the Louisiana, carrying two hundred and sixty tons of pow- 
der was run in under the fort and left to be blown up. It was 
the opinion of the originator of this brilliant idea that such an 
explosion would create a vacuum sufficient to throw the guns of 
the fort from their position and disable the garrison, and assure 
an easy victory. The report was that Lowell, Mass,, was the 
place of this scientific conception. The result was a heavy and 
costly failure. For four days we were pitching and lurching, 
and during a storm the Louisiana broke adrift, but while 
drifting past the monitor Monadnock, she was cleverly 
saved. The evening of December 24, the boat was sent in to 
the fort to accomplish its work. The fleet was to marshal in 
order of battle at the explosion and follow for the fight. It had 
been calculated that the machinery in the Louisiana for ex- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 435 

ploding the cargo would ignite the fuse about 5 a. m. But at 
2.15 A. M., a lurid light was visible shorewards, accompanied by 
a muffled growl, and a strong sulphurous smell was soon de- 
tected. A fearful heart-sinking followed. The line of battle 
could not be formed in the darkness and we were ten miles out 
from the fort. While we felt a trembling jar, the inhabitants 
of Beaufort, eighty miles away, were aroused from slumber by 
rattling windows, but in the fort itself a supposition prevailed 
that one of the blockaders had come to grief. 

At 5 p. M. the fleet formed the battle line and steamed in 
shore. The New Ironsides threw the first shot at three minutes 
to 1 p. M., followed by the broadsides of the entire fleet, — 
ships of the line, second-raters, third-raters, gunboats, all 
opening their iron mouths at once. The deafening, thundering 
noise, the bursting shells mingling with the screaming, flying 
projectiles, the curling smoke and clouds of rings to and from 
the opposite batteries, completed a scene never before equaled 
in naval warfare. On deck, the spectacle was wild. The stern 
faces of officers and men, covered with the dust of burnt sabots, 
grimed with powder and perspiration, yet all eager, cool, and 
determined. There were accidents from bursting ordnance; 
deaths from the enemy's shots and scalding steam. While the 
bombardment was progressing, the transports were debarking 
the troops further up the beach; but, before the debarkment 
had been completed Major-General Butler ordered the same to 
cease. Some 2,000 men had already been sent ashore; the fire 
from the fort had perceptibly weakened and confidence was 
exultant. On the morrow embarkation succeeded debarkation, 
and the third day transports and troops steamed back to For- 
tress Monroe. The bombardment had been abandoned and the 
Union disgraced. 



A GRAND RECORD. 5tli New York at Antietam. 



^ELAWARE sent seventy-four and JT was the 5th N. Y. Regt. which led 

eight-tenths per cent, of her mili- the advance of the army from South 

tary population to the war, a larger Mountain to Antietam creek, develop- 

percentage than that of any other ing tlie enemy's position, unmasking 

state. Massachusetts sent fifty-eight his batteries, and capturing 100 pris- 

per cent. oners. 




6f 



i^o J raf^K^lii^ 



HOW THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND GOT OUT 
OF A TIGHT PINCH. 



BY W. F. HINMAN, 65th OHIO. 



c^^^l^^TLANTA had fallen. Hood had "got away " with his 
^^^m^^^ army and was marching rapidly northward, intent 
(p i Jr\/m Ij^ upon the re-occupation of Tennessee and Kentucky; 
Sherman was off with four corps on the " march to the 
sea," while the Fourth and Twenty-third corps, under General 
Thomas, were kicking up the dust at a lively rate in their efforts to 
reach Nashville before Hood. The two corps had not exceeding 
18,000men. General Scofield was in immediate command, Thomas 
having hastened bj^rail to Nashville to direct the organization of 
the various bodies of troops ordered thither from ever}- point in the 
department from which a man could be spared. A.J. Smith's divis- 
ion of the Sixteenth corps was on the way up from Memphis, and 
from Chattanooga, Murfreesboro, Bowling Green, Louisville 
and other places, brigades and regiments were being hurried 
to the point of rendezvous. Hood, with 45,000 men, had crossed 
the Tennessee river at Florence and was headed for Nashville, the 
onlv force to oppose him before reaching that point being the 
two corps under Scofield, less than half his strength. It was all 
important that a few days be gained for collecting and organiz- 
ing the scattered troops, and Scofield's orders were, while studi- 
ously avoiding a general engagement, for which his force was 
wholly inadequate, to delay the enemy's advance as much as 
possible. With all the available troops concentrated into a com- 
pact body, and "Old Pap" Thomas at their head, it was believed 
that Hood's advance would be checked. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 437 

But the situation was the most critical one in the history of the 
Army of the Cumberland. The rebel commander comprehended 
it thoroughly, and hurried his army forward to the utmost limit 
of human endurance. His troops were flushed with the hope, 
held out to them, of atoning, by a bold stroke, for the long, un- 
broken series of defeats, as they had been driven a hundred and 
fifty miles southward from Chattanooga by Sherman's conquer- 
ing legions. A large number of Hood's regiments were from Ten- 
nessee and Kentucky, and it is not strange, as every step of their 
weary march brought them nearerto their homes, which they were 
to rescue from the hands of the spoiler, their hearts beat high with 
enthusiasm— just such as the Northern soldiers would have felt 
under similar circumstances. General Hood, in his "Advance and 
Retreat," speaks in the highest terms of the morale of his army 
during the entire march from Atlanta to Nashville. Hood was 
extremely anxious to overwhelm Schofield before he could reach 
Thomas. This done, he thought it would be comparatively easy 
for him to brush away the heterogeneous mass of troops at Nash- 
ville, or to pass around that place and continue his northward 
march unopposed. Had he succeeded, the glory of "Sherman's 
March to the Sea" would have withered like a plucked flower in 
the noon-day sun. 

General Schofield, with admirable strategic skill, had impeded 
the advance of the enemy by taking advantage of every oppor- 
tunity that was presented, particularly at the crossing of Duck 
River, near Columbia, where he held Hood at bay for three days. 
There was much hot skirmishing, and a general engagement 
seemed imminent at every moment. During the night of Novem- 
ber 28th the Union army quietK' left its entrenchments, under 
cover of the darkness, and when the morning broke it was well on 
its way northward. Stanley, with the Second (Wagner's) Divi- 
sion of the Fourth Corps, was in the advance, followed by the 
immense train of baggage, ammunition, commissary and hospital 
wagons, and in rear of this, the main army. But, meanwhile, the 
rebels had not been idle. Anticipating such a movement, Hood 
had ordered Cheatham, with a strong corps, to push rapidly for- 
ward on a parallel road to Spring Hill, and there plant his troops 
across the pike on which Schofield was moving, and which led 
directly to Franklin and Nashville. 

Stanley, at the head of his column, reached Spring Hill about 
the middle of the afternoon. The troops w^ere much jaded, having 
marched without a moment of sleep nearly all the previous night. 
Cheatham's arrival was almost simultaneous. Stanlev's flankers 



438 CAMP AND FIELD. 

ran into his skirmishers, and a spirited fire ensued. The rattle of 
musketry and the whistling of bullets over the pike gave notice 
that an emergency was at hand, and not a moment to be lost. 
The force of the enemy was unknown, but the established fact 
is that Cheatham's entire corps was there, outnumbering Stan- 
lev's single division three or four to one. There was no hope of 
immediate reinforcement. The wagon train stretched away back 
along the pike for a distance of five or six miles, and then came 
the troops under Schofield, with all they could attend to, for 
Hood's army w^as hovering upon their flank, eagerly watching 
for an opportunity to strike a decisive blow. The rebel cavalry 
were active all along the line, and at two of three points swooped 
down upon the train and captured and destroyed a number of 
wagons. The vehicles were hurried on with all possible dispatch. 
It was an unusually interesting and sultry day for the quarter- 
masters and mule drivers, upon whom the whiz of bullets was 
generall}^ liable to have a decidedly panicky effect. 

It w^as an hour of supreme peril to the Fourth and Twenty- 
third Corps. Indeed, to those who fully realized the situation, it 
seemed that nothing short of Divine interposition could save 
them from destruction. All hearts were filled with the gravest 
apprehensions of disaster, and the light of history proves that they 
were abundantly justified. If Hood, with his overwhelming num- 
bers, should strike the moving and incumbered army in flank, rout 
and ruin would be inevitable. Should Cheatham succeed in gain- 
ing possession of the pike at Spring Hill, no human power could 
avert defeat and the loss of the entire train. General Stanley 
comprehended the emergency and met it with the utmost prompt- 
ness and decision. Quickly selecting the best available position 
in the enemy's immediate front, he disposed his small force in the 
most advantageous manner, directing them to hold it at all haz- 
ards. 

The soldiers needed no urging. Nearly all were veterans of three 
years' service, and every private soldier in the ranks fully under- 
stood and realized the critical nature of the situation. The rebels 
charged them repeatedly and made desperate efforts to dislodge 
them, but in vain. They held the position unaided, against large 
odds, for two hours, when the arrival of other troops caused the 
enemy to retire. The battle of Spring Hill ranks as scarcely more 
than a skirmish. Only two brigades \vere actively engaged on the 
Union side, but the casualties were severe. The regiment ta 
w^hich I belonged lost in those two or three hours half as man^^ 
men as during the two davs' fighting at Chickamauga. Through- 



CAMP AND FIEl.r». 439 

out the engagement, General Stanley exhibited marked coolness 
and courage, and the few changes in the line were made with 
masterly skill. Not many times during the war did a force con- 
front an adversary so relatively strong with such weighty conse- 
quences depending upon its ability to maintain its position. Had 
it proved unequal to the task,there was no help at hand, and dire 
disaster would have dimmed the shining stars of the Army of the 
Cumberland. 

It is undoubtedly true that the hesitancy of General Cheatham 
was singularly fortunate for the Union army. His orders, as 
General Hood states, were clear and absolute, to push forward 
and occupy the place. His force was ample to accomplish this 
had he used it to the best advantage, but the bold front and vig- 
orous resistance of Wagner's division deceived him into the belief 
that the force opposing him was much larger than it really was. 
In a subsequent investigation of his conduct, he urged this in his 
defense. 

Never were the shades of night more welcome than when, at the 
close of that perilous day, they settled down upon Schofield's 
weary soldiers, as they struggled along the stony pike. During 
the fight of the afternoon the wagon train had been rushed for- 
ward, guarded by a force of cavalry and infantry. The troops 
were kept moving as rapidly and quietly as possible, The bivouac 
fires of the enemy were in ])lain view, some of them not half a 
mile distant, and lighted up the evening-sky with a ruddy glow. 
His pickets at some points were within a hundred yards of the 
pike. Every officer and soldier realized that the hour of extreme 
danger had not yet passed. Strung out in a long line for miles 
upon the highway, marching by the flank, the army was in no 
condition to resist an attack. A bold dash of a single brigade at 
almost any point would have broken the column in two, and this, 
followed by a general movement, would have resulted in utter 
defeat and rout. It is now a matter of record that, between dusk 
and midnight. Hood three times sent forward to Cheatham the 
most emphatic orders to effect a lodgment on the pike at any 
cost. But he was timorous of a night attack, and the orders 
were disregarded. Hood was furious at his non-comphance, and 
soon afterward relieved him from his command. During the few 
succeeding months before the w^ar closed, the events of that day 
and night were often discussed in the bivouacs of the Army of 
the Cumberland, and never without a unanimous vote of thanks 
to the star of "good luck" that twinkled upon Schofield's army 
out of that midnisfht vskv. 



440 CAMP AND FIELD. 

The hours and the troops dragged wearily o;i, and the attack 
so much expected and feared was not made. The "flankers" 
moved cautiously on either side of the pike, with the strictest or- 
ders to avoid "stirring up" the enemy. U fired upon, the fire was 
not to be returned unless required by absolute necessity. At times 
thev almost brushed the rebel picket posts, as they groped their 
way through the woods and fields. On the pike the column 
marched steadily along. Every man trod lightly, lest the noise 
of his step on the flinty road provoke the enemy. Scarcely a w'ord 
was spoken, and when commands were necessary they were given 
in hoarse w^hispers that revealed the intensity of the anxiety and 
apprehension. Occasional shots from the enemy's pickets, start- 
ling by their nearness, were heard, and then every man tightened 
the grasp upon his loaded musket, expecting the fateful moment 
to be at hand. On and still on, every step diminishing the peril. 
As the gleaming fires of the enemy's camp grew more and more 
indistinct, the jaded soldiers breathed a fervent sigh of relief, and 
there w^ere doubtless a few devout ones who lifted their hearts in 
thanks to the Almighty — and Cheatham— for deliverance. 

The rebel soldiers were as much exhausted as those of the Union 
army, and rested in their bivouac a considerable part of the 
night. Schofield continued on till daylight, when a brief halt was 
made for rest. Men dropped upon the ground and were un- 
conscious in a moment. Many of them had not slept an hour in 
two days and nights. But early in the day the cavalry brought 
tidings that Hood was moving. The order was given to "fall in," 
and the troops, weary and footstore, resumed their march. Soon 
after noon the advance of the army reached Franklin. The town 
was literally blocked with wagons, which were struggling in mad 
haste to get across the Harpeth river by means of a pontoon 
bridge. As fast as they succeeded, the drivers lashed the mules into 
a gallop for Nashville, some fifteen miles distant. But there was 
much delay from the giving way of the bridge and breaking down 
of vehicles; for the rebel army was hard at the heels of Schofield, 
and there was a panic among the trainmen. A second bridge was 
hastily throwm across the stream, and the wagons were hurried 
over at the utmost speed. The average driver needed no urging, 
for fear gave strength to his arm, fury to his lash, and unwonted 
vehemence to his profanity. 

The enemy was crowding so closely that, unless a "stand" was 
made, a large number of wagons and their contents w^ould have 
to be destroyed or abandoned, and it was determined to fight if 
an attack was made. The troops were in poor condition for the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 441 

fatigue of a battle, but those of the enemy were in no better, and 
it seemed the best thing to do under all the circumstances. As 
fast as the divisions arrived, they were immediately disposed in a 
semi-circular line inclosing the town, the flanks resting upon the 
river on either side. Entrenchments were hastily thrown up, 
every man working for his very life. It was known that Scho- 
field's arm}'^ was largely outnumbered, and breastworks must 
make up for the inferior force. Fences and buildings disappeared 
almost in a moment, and the debris was used for barricades. A 
trench was dug on the outside and the earth thrown up so that in 
an hour's time the Union troops were behind a very good line of 
works, with batteries planted at proper intervals. 

Hood was informed by his cavalry of Schofield's preparations to 
fight. Knowing that every moment strengthened the enemy's 
position, he formed his charging line as fast as his brigade came 
up. The last to arrive scarcely halted at all. The order "forward" 
was given, and the line moved grandly on. The history of the war 
records no braver charge than that of the rebels at Franklin. 
Without cover, the long line swept for half a mile over a wide, 
level cotton-field, in the face of a terrific fire of musketry, grape 
and canister. Before that withering storm they fell like grass 
before the scythe, but the survivors pressed on, into the ditch, and 
and at one spot over the works. They were met with clubbed gun 
and bayonet. For a moment it seemed that the day was lost, 
when a superb dash by Opdycke's brigade drove back over the 
entrenchments those that remained alive, and the line was re- 
established. Twelve hundred of the enemy surrendered in the 
trenches, not caringtotake the chance of retreating over that field 
of death. 

The carnage was frightful. Rarely in the war was such deadly 
work done as during those two hours near the close of that No- 
vember dav. The fight began between four and five o'clock, and 
before dark the torn and shattered line had abandoned the des- 
perately gallant attempt, and retired from the field. In this brief 
engagement the rebels lost more general officers than in any other 
battle of the war, not excepting Gettysburg and other great con- 
flicts in the East. Seven were killed and six wounded. Hood re- 
ported his loss much below the actual figure. A few years ago I 
visited Franklin, and in the battle cemetery I counted the graves 
of nearlv 1,400. Many were taken away after the battle by their 
friends living in the vicinity. At the usual ratio of wounded to 
killed, the casualties on the Confederate side were not less than 
8,000. Schofield's loss w^as about a third of this number. Gen- 



4-42 CAMP AND FIELD. 

eral Stanley was conspicuous for his bravery in this engagement, 
until pierced by a bullet that disabled him. 

While the battle was in progress the train had been safely 
crossed. During the night the Union troops withdrew, and soon 
afternoon, on December 1, bivouacked in the suburbs of Nash- 
ville. The men were almost in the last stages of exhaustion, the 
marching and fighting of the three days previous, almost without 
rest or sleep, having taxed to the very uttermost their powers of 
endurance. Two weeks later, at the blast of the bugle, that 
army swept like a tornado over the entire Confederate line of en- 
trenchments, and Hood's army was so completely routed that 
thereafter it existed only in history. 



KeTidaFi Qgamst ft^^i't 



1864. 



Raid of the Federal Cavalry Corps from the Rappahannock to the James. 



CUSTER S CHARGE AT YELLOW TAVERN. 



General Stuart's Death within Earshot of Richmond. 

By BREVET LIEUT. -COL. THEO. W. BEAN, C. C. A. of P. 



'N the promotion of Maj.-Gen. U. S. Grant to be lieutenant- 
general in 18G4, and the establishment of his headquarters 

i with the Army of the Potomac, he brought with him from 
"^ the West only one general field officer; Maj.-Gen. Philip H. 
Sheridan, of whom the East- 
ern public and Army of the 
Potomac knew little, save 
that he was a successful di- 
vision commander in the 
Southwest. The advent of 
Sheridan as commander of 
the cavalry corps was fol- 
lowed by the reorganiza- 
tion of the divisions. Brig.- 
Gen, A. T. A. Torbert was 
assigned to the command 
of the 1st Division, with 
the following brigade com- 
manders: 1st Brigade, Gen- 
eral Custer; 2d Brigade, Colonel Devin; Reserve Brigade, Gen- 
eral Merritt; 3d Division, Brig. -Gen. David M. C. M. Gregg; 
1st Brigade, Brigadier-General Davies; 2d Brigade, Colonel 
Gregg: .3d Division, Brigadier-General Wilson; 1st Brigade, 
Colonel Avery; 2d Brigade, Colonel Pennington. 




444 CAMP AND FIELD. 

On the night of May 8, the cavahy corps was massed on the 
extreme left of Grant on the main road from Fredericksburg 
to Chancellors ville. Sheridan's orders contemplated cutting 
Lee's communications from his base of supplies, raiding his 
rear, threatening Richmond, and thus affording them an oppor- 
tunity of meeting the Confederate cavalry upon a fair open 
field. Grant's advance had reached and passed Spottsylvania 
Court House. He had driven Lee from the Rappahannock, a 
line which Mr. Davis had declared could be held for " twenty 
years if the necessities of the Confederacy required it." The 
corps was standing to horse before the sun of the 0th rose upon 
the grand pageant of the army. The number of men including 
the horse artillery was estimated at 9,000, and with the ammu- 
nition and the limited baggage and ambulance trains, the col- 
umn was between nine and ten miles long. 

Owing to the severe illness of General Torbert, Gen. Wesley 
Merritt was in command of the 1st Division. This division ad- 
vanced rapidly the morning of the Oth, the objective point 
being Beaver Dam Station, on the Virginia Central railroad. 
By sunrise we crossed the head waters of the Mattapony river. 
The 1st Division halted only at Cliildsburg; and there only to 
mass and close up. No serious obstacle was met in front or on 
our flank. The 2d and 3d Divisions, however, were less fortu- 
nate. General Stuart was not long in learning of the move, 
and by midday he was felt on both flanks and rear of the mov- 
ing column. This gave impetus to our troops, who scented a 
prize at Beaver Dam Station. The leading brigade was Gen- 
eral Custer's, composed of the 1st, 5th, Gth, and 7th Mich. 
Regts. It was near p. m. when we reached Beaver Dam Sta- 
tion. The station was unguarded and the charging squadron 
promptl}^ made prisoners of all the employes and compelled 
them to signal all approaching trains and have them stop at the 
station. The telegraph operator informed us that two trains 
would be at the station in less than half an hour, one from 
Richmond with ammunition and supplies for Lee, and the other 
from Lee's army with prisoners. This was cheering news. 
Every precaution was taken to insure their capture. Soon the 
whistle "■ down brakes " was heard and the down train slowed 
up at the station. The Michigan boys captured the train and 
were overjoyed at the deliverance of some 400 prisoners, over 
one-half of whom belonged to their brigade, having been capt- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 445 

ured in the engagement of May 6, while uncovering Lee's 
right flank. 

The joy of the occasion was intensified by the arrival and 
capture of the train from Richmond with supplies; and every 
precaution was now taken to prevent a surprise and to resist 
attack. The railroad was occupied for a safe distance east and 
west, the cars were fired, and the track torn up for a mile or 
more in each direction. By midnight, the command was 
quietly resting within the well-guarded lines of the corps. The 
burning of the station and other property was contrary to Gen- 
eral Sheridan's orders, as the light from the conflagration 
enabled Stuart to turn his guns upon us. At the dawn of day, 
to the music of shot and shell, we moved in the direction of 
Richmond, deferring the pleasure of coffee and accompani- 
ments until a later hour in the day. 

The head of the column met with no impeding force on the 
10th, but fighting took place on the marching flank of the 2d 
and 3d Divisions, and the rear guard was frequently forced 
rapidly back. The weather was clear, the roads good, the 
country open and admirably adapted to the movement of 
mounted troops. Charge and counter-charge were frequently 
witnessed on the flanks and rear of the column, as it crowded 
its way towards the Confederate capital. It was known that 
we would reach Richmond before sunset May 11. Whether 
Stuart had passed our left flank and thus defeated our intended 
surprise was a question to us. The rank and file fully compre- 
hended the situation, and believed that only a portion of Lee's 
cavalry were pressing our rear, while the best of their mounted 
troops would be met at Brook pike, about seven miles north- 
west of Richmond. It turned out that Stuart crossed our rear 
late on the 9th, passed our marching flank on the 10th, and by 
noon of the 11th had placed batteries covering every road lead- 
ing to Richmond north of the James river. 

The 2d Brigade under Colonel Devin advanced the 11th, the 
reserve brigade under General Gibbs, supporting it, and met 
Stuart's outposts on the mountain road about noon. The enemy, 
driven back over Brook pike, took a strong position on a ridge 
of open country, his left covering the Brook pike, and his right 
west of the public road leading from Atlee's Station. The Con- 
federates' resistance was stubborn and our troops were largely 
dismounted before they succeeded in reaching and passing 



446 CAMP Ax\D fie;ld. 

Brook pike. Stuart's battery had perfect range of our horses 
in rear of the carbineers, and shell and shot were playing 
havoc with the poor brutes. Meantime the enemy was thun- 
dering upon the rear divisions of Gregg and Wilson and the 
firing indicated a line of battle forming upon all sides of us. 
The situation by 3.30 P. m. was one of great anxiety. Within 
an area of ten miles, 18,000 cavalry were forming their lines for 
deadly battle. The prize was an important one. Not only was 
the reputation of the leaders at issue, but Richmond was in 
actual danger, for at that hour only the line of Stuart lay be- 
tween Sheridan and the Confederate capital; on the other hand, 
if Stuart could hold us until the morrow, troops could be has- 
tened forward from Petersburg and our column could be 
crushed on the 12th. There were many distinguished officers 
in command of the Confederate line in front of us, — Stuart, 
Fitz Lee, and Lomax, and they were well known to Gregg, 
Merritt, Gibbs, and Custer. Stuart was in the zenith of his 
great reputation, while Sheridan had yet to meet his superior 
in the field. 

It was at this critical hour that Custer rode up to Merritt and 
said, "Merritt, I am going to charge that battery." Merritt 
responded, "Go in, general, I will give you all the support in 
my power." Just at this moment General Sheridan and staff 
reached our headquarters and reported our line on flank and 
rear secure beyond all doubt. General Merritt immediately 
told Sheridan that Custer was about to charge the battery that 
had given us so much trouble. Sheridan's reply was: "Bully 
for Custer! I'll wait and see it." Custer formed his brigade in 
column of regiments, placing his mounted band in front. His 
headquarters flag — of the gayest colors — was flying in advance 
of the moving mass of glittering blades. The shrill blast of 
one hundred bugles and the familiar air of " Yankee Doodle " 
rang out upon the battle field while fully 1,800 brave men of the 
Michigan brigade rode boot to boot into what seemed the very 
jaws of death. There was a depression in the plain between 
where Custer formed and the position occupied by the battery. 
The task was further complicated by a deep "Virginia ditch," 
over which were three corduroy field bridges. This ditch was 
impassable in Custer's front, and the entire brigade had to 
break from regimental front to column of fours, cross the 
bridge, and then reform in the face of a terrific fire from the 



CAMP AND FIELD 447 

battery. Fortunately the enemy's guns could not be depressed 
sufficiently to be effective. This obstacle overcome, the charge 
was made up the rising ground, within sight of the Union line. 
The wild huzzas of thousands went up to cheer the gallant 
horsemen as they dashed upon and passed the guns, completely 
stampeding the troops in support of the artillery. In less than 
twenty minutes from the time the bugle sounded, the enemy 
was completely routed. 

Many were killed and captured, and all of their artillery save 
one piece — and that flying from the field — fell into our hands. 
The enemy retired so rapidly that capture was impossible, and 
the recall was sounded within a mile from the point where the 
battery was captured. 

General Sheridan remained an eye-witness to the splendid 
charge. As Custer's men emerged from the depression at a 
trot and struck the gallop, under the firing of the battery, the 
scene was of the most exciting character. When the guns 
were reached and passed, the whole line from right to left was 
advanced, and victory was assured to the Union troops. At 
this moment. General Sheridan turned to Merritt, his face 
radiant with joy, and said: " General Merritt, send a staff offi- 
cer to General Custer and give him my compliments. The con- 
duct of himself and of his brigade deserves the most honorable 
mention.'' General Custer received the compliment with evi- 
dent pleasure, modestly expressing his thanks, saying he 
deemed the "honorable mention'" of his brigade a most pleas- 
ing and fortunate episode of his life. The situation, for hours 
previous so critical, was now one of undoubted success. The 
news that General Stuart was mortally wounded soon reached 
us through prisoners, and farther that the Confederate cavalry 
were unsupported by troops from Richmond. The latter was 
desirable news. The command was given two hours to prepare 
coffee and food for the men and to feed and groom the horses, 
preparatory to a night march. As soon as Stuart's line was 
broken at Yellow Tavern, his right and left wings withdrew 
from the front. This uncovered the Brook pike, and a regiment 
of the 2d Brigade, under direction of Colonel Devin. advanced 
to Richmond and halted at the outer line of defenses. It re- 
mained there until dark. A field hospital was established 
under care of our medical officers, and, bidding good-by to the 
brave comrades who were too badly wounded to be removed, 



448 CAMP AND FIELD. 

the command took up the line of march for the night. The 
darkness was intense. The 17th Penn. Cavalry, Colonel Ander- 
son commanding, drove the local troops to the Meadow bridge 
over the Chickahominy, and by 10 p. m. had a picket post 
within three miles of Mr. Davis's mansion. They held this po- 
sition until the morning of the 12th. The enemy planted ex- 
plosives in the bed of the road and greatly annoyed our mid- 
night march, at the same time indicating our exact location 
during every hour of the march. Several thousand troops 
were detached from the army confronting General Butler, and 
were rapidly marched during the night of the 11th to the works 
on the northwest of Richmond, with orders to attack us at day- 
light. General Hampton reorganized the cavalry, and during 
the night took position near Meadow bridge. By 3 o'clock a. m. 
of the 12th, the command, with its trains, was on the road lead- 
ing to Meadow bridge and within three miles of the heart of the 
city. The bells could be clearly heard and many lights dis- 
tinctly seen. Towards four o'clock a. m. it began to rain in 
torrents. The situation was critical, and the rain soon rendered 
it almost impossible to move our artillery on the battle line or 
to park the trains at points necessary for their protection. 

By seven o'clock a. m., the Union line formed the arc of a 
circle, the left resting on the Chickahominy at a point some 
three hundred yards southeast of the railroad bridge, and the 
right resting in air where the road on which we were marching 
unites with the Brook pike. To pass the Chickahominy, the 
1st Division under General Merritt was dismounted and di- 
rected to dislodge the troops under Hampton. The old wooden 
bridge appeared to be in the last stages of public usefulness. 
The carbineers, armed with Spencer seven-shooters, passed the 
bridge under a galling fire and secured a foothold on the east 
side. The resistance was stubborn and the struggle was con- 
tinued with considerable loss. General Merritt had no doubt 
that he could dislodge the enemy, but General Sheridan feared 
that the enemy in front of Gregg and Wilson would force them 
to retire too rapidly, and having but a single roadway and a 
narrow track bridge it might be attended with confusion and 
loss. 

Could not the railroad bridge within our line be utilized? 
True, it was an open bridge: but if planked or covered it could 
be used for dismounted troops. Fully a thousand hands were 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



449 



soon at work pulling down fences and frame buildings, and in 
less than two hours the motley crowd could be seen making 
good time for the James river. Our advance had been checked 
for at least three hours, during which time Gregg and Wilson 
successfully resisted several well directed efforts of the enemy 
to break their line. Meanwhile, General Merritt, with the 1st 
Division dismounted, forced the enemy to retire from the posi- 
tion on the east side of the bridge, and by noon the passage of 
the corps was safely effected, the rear guard being closely fol- 
lowed by the enemy. The command encamped near Mechan- 
icsville for the night without further molestation. The next 
day. May 13, the march was made across the Peninsula, reach- 
ing Malvern Hill about two o'clock p. m. Here we were met by 
the gunboats conveying supplies for both man and beast. We 
had been out four days and had lost 715 in killed and wounded. 

THE SOLDIER'S LAST WORD. 

By PARK BENJAMIN. 



5E lay U11011 the battle field, 

Where late the crash of arms 
'^^ was heard. 

And from his pallid lips there came, 
In broken accents, one fond word. 

" Mother ! " was all the soldier said, 
As, freshly from his wounded side, 

The hot blood flowed and bore away 
His life upon its crimson tide. 

Bravest among the brave he rushed. 
Without a throb or thought of fear, 

And loudest 'mid the tumult pealed. 
In clarion tones, his charging cheer : — 

On to the battle ! comrades, on ! 

Strike for the Union ! strike for fame ! 
Who lives, will win his country's praise, 

Who dies, will leave a glorious name. 



Alas ! w^hat courage can advance 
Against a storm of iron hail? 

What hearts repel a fiery sleet, 

Though clad, like ancient knights, in 
mail ? 

He sunk beneath the waves of strife. 
Among an undistinguished train, 

Foremost upon the battle field. 
And first among the early slain. 

Dying, he turned him from the flag, 
Whose Stars and Sti-ipes still onward 
waved ; 

Dying, he thought no more of fame, 
Of victory won, or country saved. 

No ! for his home and her he loved 
His sad, departing spirit sighed ; 

" Mother ! " the soldier fondly said. 
And, looking toward the North, he 
died. 



1864 

A BRILLIANT SUNDAY MORNING SURPRISE PARTY. 



Thousauds of Southern Citizens Rush to the Protection of Federal (Juns. 



SCENES OF DEMORALIZATION UNPARALLELED DURING THE WAR. 
By A. W. PEAKSOS, V. S. >., Paymaster U. S. Steamship Bed Clover, Miss. Sqnadron. 



; XWXWXWXXWWWXXWXVCfcN" 



It^ EMPHIS, in 1864, was apparently secure in the pro- 
^ \ I tection of Uncle Sam's forces. At the navy yard lay 
two of our strongest iron-clads, the Louisville and the 
Essex. The heavy guns of Fort Pickering commanded 
the city from the southward, and the main approaches from the 
east and northeast were held by numerous regiments of cavalry 
and infantry. There was no suspicion of danger; business 
and pleasure went on in their usual rounds; the farmers daily 
hauled their produce for trade, and we had forgotten that grim- 
visaged war had not yet smoothed his wrinkled front; if an 
uneasy Jeremiah had ventured to predict the catastrophe of the 
coming day he would have been laughed at as a lunatic. The 
city was the depot for vast stores of war material, and the site 
of numerous hospitals. 

The general commanding had dispensed with the austerities 
of camp life, establishing his headquarters in a city residence. 
Many subordinate officers followed his example and either kept 
house or boarded at the elegant Gayoso Hotel, close under Fort 
Pickering's guns. 

Such was the status of things on the evening of Saturday, 
August 20. 

I left the steamer Red Rover lying at the navy yard, and 
passed the night with army acquaintances up town, earnestly en- 
gaged in the solution if the mysteries of a game of cards. The 
dawn of the 21st was trying to pierce the fog when I started to 



CAMP AND FIELD. 451 

return on board. My attention was attracted by the clatter of a 
troop of horses, passing along the street. A moment afterward 
I was startled by the sound of a shot, a few blocks distant. 

While reflecting upon the meaning of this uncanny report, I 
was interested by the speech of an old lady who was gazing 
down at me from a second story window. With an indescriba- 
ble expression, she said: " Good Lord! man, the rebs is in town I 
A whole crowd jist went by on horseback!" Scarcely crediting 
this improbable statement, I quickened my pace, accelerated 
by another shot or two down the street. At the next block I 
came across the prostrate form of a Union officer. He was 
shot through the breast. This surely looked ugly. Everything 
was enveloped in fog and uncertainty. 

As I turned from Madison to Front streets I bounced upon a 
young darky, who gasped: " Massa, de rebs is heah, shuah! 
Run!" and suiting action to the word, he skedaddled. I had 
restricted myself to pretty long and rapid steps, but now I 
fairly sailed over the jimson weeds to the Memphis levee. All 
hands were called, steam was raised, and we waited for '• some- 
thing to turn up." 

About 9 A, M, the fog lifted, and seeing no signs of an enemy 
I ventured to return to our naval hospital. No intimation of 
danger had yet reached this sanctuary, so I determined to con- 
tinue to the Gayoso House. A crowd was about the entrance 
and there I soon learned that I had not been terrified by 
shadows. The enemy had indeed been in town and had called 
at the hotel. Forrest's forces surrounded the Gayoso soon after 
daybreak, and sent a few files into the house to ' ' pick up the 
game," Regardless of courtesy they passed along the corridors, 
and opened the bedroom doors with the butts of their carbines. 
If the divested clothing of the occupant bore any of the in- 
signia of Uncle Sam, the owner of the duds was invited to step 
forth, and he did not cease stepping until he had traveled on 
foot some sixty miles from the city of Memphis, 

A friend of mine was awake, and, hearing the unusual clat- 
ter of hoofs, sprang from his bed and rushed to the window. 
He did not err in guessing at what must be the matter. Catch- 
ing up his uniform he threw it beneath a pile of soiled linen 
assorted for the wash. Knowing where the " colored help " of 
the hotel roosted, he dashed for one of their rooms, and popped 
into bed between two of the daughters of Ham, who were re- 



452 CAMP AND FIEl.r>. 

posing in peaceful ignorance of impending peril. Hastily 
informing his sable friends of the stress of necessity, they cov- 
ered him up, head and ears in their midst, and when the Con- 
federacy smashed in their door they saluted them with such an 
outburst of outraged modesty that the invaders refrained from 
investigation. When the coast was clear my friend emerged 
from his dusky retreat, with an all pervading sense of the 
strength of "contraband" assistance. 

Forrest also sent a detachment to capture the commanding 
general. Here his men blundered. While they were examin- 
ing the front of the building the general and his aides escaped 
through the rear door, and over the garden fence, making safe 
retreat to Fort Pickering. Reaching camp I found sad evidence 
of the consequences of Forrest's untimely visit. A part of our 
soldiers were engaged in the excavation of a long trench by the 
roadside, destined to receive the bodies of the Confederate dead. 
In the midst of the camp, lay our boys who had fallen in the 
combat. 

General Forrest, by visiting the city in disguise, had ac- 
quainted himself with the state of its defenses, and at dawn on 
Sunday, under cover of the dense fog, with 1500 cavalry came 
in on the Hernando road, drove in Wood's pickets, reached and 
charged through the camp, firing upon the tents and slaughter- 
ing their inmates almost before they were awake. I counted 
twenty bullet holes in one tent. The brigade quartermaster, 
Johnson Smith, a prominent lawyer of Warsaw, 111., was a 
aroused by the firing, and stepped outside of the tent just as a 
man rode past. He asked the horseman what was the matter, 
and for reply received a carbine shot through the breast. I 
visited him in the hospital the day after the action. He showed 
me the blue orifice where the ball entered and where it had 
passed out between his shoulders. He thought "it would not 
amount to much," and that he would " soon get over it." The 
next day he was over it, and over all his mortal trouble. Sev- 
eral thousand troops were encamped around the city, all within 
earshot of the fight, and all under arms; only waiting for in- 
formation and orders from headquarters. Unfortunately, head- 
quarters not being where they should have been, had been, 
stampeded. The alarm had become pretty well spread; the fog 
was lifting, and Forrest, well aware that he was encircled by 
force enough to devour his command if they could only see how 



CAMP AND FI^.LD 



453 



to catch it, successfully retreated, carrying with him eighty 
prisoners, and leaving a ghastly array of killed and wounded. 
The second day following, the whole city was again thrown 
into a fever of excitement. The fortifications and troops kept 
up a clash of arms the entire day. When at last the trouble 
was solved it was found that a body of negro troops had 
marched from their camp into some woods to drill at firing, and 
this was construed into an attack, while a white cow peacefully 
wagging her tail to keep off the mosquitoes, upon the opposite 
bank of the river, had been supposed to be a flag of truce from 
Kirby Smith and Dick Taylor, demanding the surrender of the 
city. 



A FLAG WITH A HISTORY. 



OOHP: old flag of the l-2;5(l Regt. 
^^ Ind. Vols., which has been 
'^d^ missing for years, and was 
long ago given up by the state authori- 
ties as lost forever, bobbed up serenely 
recently, in a badly damaged con- 
dition, and was placed among the regi- 
mental standards in the custody of the 
state librarian. The history of its 
wanderings is not fully known, but a 
^hort time ago it was discovered by 
William Arnold,— brother of INIrs. Wal- 
ton, the woman recently convicted of 
complicity in the mui'derof her husband, 
— in the possession of a man living near 



St. Paul, in Decatur county, and, refus- 
ing to give it up, the two came to blows 
and engaged in a bloody fight. Arnold 
came out victorious and obtained 
possession of the old flag, which he 
shipped to Col. E. H. Wolfe, auditor of 
the state, who was as proud as if he 
had captured a fort when he marched 
into the state library with it and de- 
livered it to the safe-keeping of the 
librai-iau. Tlie flag has suffered some 
from improper nandling and exposure. 
It is full of bullet holes, and hangs in 
tatters, Imt there is still enough of it 
left worth preserving. 



First PasseHSfer Train Captured. 



"♦JpTIE first time during the war that a 
passenger train was captured and 
robbed, was in February, 1864, when 
the rebels captured the Baltimore ex- 
press train for Wheeling. The capture 
was made near Kearneysville, Western 
Virginia. 



CAPTURING A SPY. 



By "OLD REGAN." 




EAR the spot where our regiment was encamped was 
a small earthwork. It contained a battery of twelve 
pounders, besides a huge eleven-inch gun which was 
elevated on a mound so that it could command the 
ford across the creek. We 
had a cook, named Hans, who 
was a short, thick-set young [f 
German of eighteen or nine- 
teen years ; extremely awkward 
and with unmistakable Teu- 
tonic features. A shock of 
yellow hair added much to his 
ludicrous appearance. Hans 
was no coward. We tried sev- 
eral jokes on him, but all were 
sorry failures. In fact, he 
wouldn't scare *' worth a cent"; 
so two of us made a bold plan 
to try and frighten him. He 
had the habit of mounting the great gun every morning after 
his work was done, and, straddling it, sit in deep thought, gaz- 
ing pensively towards the Confederate pickets. One evening, 
Samuel Jones got the artillerist who had charge of the gun to 
load it as heavily as possible and put the touch-hole in goo<l 
trim. In the morning, Hans, as usual, straddled the gun. 
Sam and I crept up behind, without disturbing him. I dropped 
my cigar in the touch-hole, and the great cannon fairly leaped 
into the air, as it belched forth its flame and smoke. The shock 
was terrible, and almost knocked us over. Hans went fully fif- 
teen feet into the air and came down on his feet without any 
bones broken. Yelling like a maniac, he clapped his hands 
to the seat of his breeches and pranced around, but when he 
saw us, his fury was awful. " A^ou A'ankee dogs,'' he 




CAMP AND FIELDo 



455 



shouted, " 1*11 pay you back for this."' It was all said in good 
English, and quite in contrast with his former Teutonic brogue. 
Seeing our looks of surprise, he turned deadly pale, faced 
around, and ran swiftly toward the Confederate pickets. Sam 
and I dashed after him, shouting at the top of our voices, "A 
spy! a spy I" But he was swifter than we, and reached the 
river first. He plunged into the stream and swam manfully 
towards the other side. I was a good swimmer, and there are 
not many men who can beat me swimming, so I plunged in, 
and in a few strokes I was near enough to catch Hans by the leg. 
He struggled terribly and buried his bowie in my shoulder; 
but I clung to him, and with the help of a half-dozen others, 
brought him ashore, amid the shouts of those who lined the 
banks. Hans turned out to be one of the best spies the enemy 
had had. He had been in our camp over two months, and a great 
deal of valuable information was hidden in his boots. Samuel 
and I told the general that we had suspected him for a long 
time, and that we had watched, and, at last, unmasked him. 
Our service was rewarded by promotion. 




AT THE TIME OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN'S ASSASSINATION 



A PHIL, ISOi. 



How the Capita! Received tbe News of Richmond's Surrender. 

BOOTH'S TERRIBLE CRIME AND THE EXECUTION OF THE ASSASSINS. 
FINAL GRAND REVIEW OF THE ROYS IN BLUE. 

MAJ. H. M. BRENA^STER, 57th Heijt. Now York Vols. 




r^\>N the iMoi'iiiiif]^ of A|)ril I. ISC),'), wliil(> on 
duty as adjiilant-^omM-al of tlu> .i;arris()ii of 
\^P Washington, and seated at my desk in 
the lieadquartors on Pennsylvania avoiuie, just 
above Nineteenth strinH, I was startled by a, 
loud shout, and the clatter of feet on I be pjive- 
nuMit told nie that a liorse was bcMiit;- rajtidly 
ridden. A cavalryman was riding at full speed 
up Pennsylvania avenue, and sliouling at tlu> 
top of his voice, "Richmond is takeni" An 
orderly was at once sent to ascertain if tbe news was true, 
although from our window long files of men were scmmi coming 
out of the War Department building, and all seemed to be very 
much "enthused" about something. Kvery nuin seen seemed 
to be possessed with an irresistible desire to shake hands with 
every other man. In a few moments came an order frojn Sec- 
retary Stanton to send a band to the War Department immedi- 
ately. 

Musicians were very much like other nu>n that morning, 
and went on the street to get the news. However, a number of 
members of diflferent bands were got togeth(>r, and taken to the 
War Department. In a- few mouKUits, otiicials began to gather 
at headquarters and ask: What shall we do to celebrate ? And 



CAMP AND FIELD. 4-57 

a parade of all tlie troops in the city was decided upon. On 
the 9th, President Lincohi came back from the front. 

On the morning of April 14, the daily papers announced 
that President Lincoln and General Grant would attend 
the performance of " Our American Cousin," at Ford's 
theater. It being my turn on duty that evening, I was unable 
to attend the play, but about nine o'clock I walked down to the 
White House and saw the torch light procession of the 
employes of the Washington Arsenal, made in honor of the 
raising of the flag on Fort Sumter that day. The pro- 
cession passed through the grounds of the White House, and I 
went to my boarding house. Upon reaching the house, I read 
for a short time and then retired. Soon after, a horse was rap- 
idly ridden to the door and the bell pulled with a quick, sharp 
ring, and in a moment the landlady was at my door sobbing 
and crying, " President Lincoln is killed and you are wanted at 
headquarters." 

When I reached the office it was full of people laboring 
under the greatest excitement. Generals, lawyers, congress- 
men, and others were there, all wishing to do something. The 
general told me to ride as fast as possible to the Long bridge, 
and Aqueduct bridge, and give orders to allow no one to go 
over without a written pass from Secretary Stanton, signed 
by himself. As I was going, the general called me into his 
private office and said: " There will probably be an attempt to 
assassinate many public men here to-night, and, if that is so, you 
may not be allowed quietly to carry orders, — look out for your- 
self." The evening previous there had been a large number of 
rebel prisoners brought in, and, as there were many deserters 
employed in the quartermaster's and commissary departments, 
some of the officers feared there might be a plan for these men 
to make serious trouble. Steps were taken to prevent it. Two 
regiments were brought out about midnight, and stationed 
around the Old Capitol Prison, where it was supposed the rebel 
prisoners were, but they had been sent north by railroad after 
dark the previous evening. The colonel of one of these two regi- 
ments was an old gentleman from Ohio, over GO years of age. 
When I woke him up and told the sad events of the even- 
ing, he cried like a child. He went to his chest and took out a 
large Colt's revolver, and, fastening it in his belt, turned to me 
and said: " Captain, that pistol was given me when I left home 



458 CAMP AND FIELD. 

for the war, and I have never worn it, but I am going to put it 

on now, and if any man talks treason to me, by I'll kill 

him." 

Everything that could be thought of was at once done to capt- 
ure the assassins. Booth had been seen by several who knew 
him to enter the President's box at the theater, and fire the fatal 
shot; but who were with him and what was intended, no one 
knew. On every road leading from the city were squads of cav- 
alry, and officers with photographs of Booth were on every train. 
General Grant, who had left for the North, the evening before, 
returned in the morning, and we all felt a sense of security 
when he came. For many days squads of cavalry came bring- 
ing in one or more prisoners dressed in gray or butternut, who 
could not give an account of themselves. As soon as they 
were noticed on the streets, crowds would collect, and shout: 
" Kill them! " " Hang them! " 

After the death of the President, his body was taken to the 
White House, and remained in state until the day of the funeral, 
when it was taken to the Capitol and placed in the rotunda and 
remained there until the next morning, when it was taken to the 
cars, and started on its long journey to its final resting place 
in Springfield, 111. The guard of honor who accompanied the 
body, was composed of one captain, three lieutenants (who had 
each lost an arm in the service), and twenty-five first sergeants, 
all detailed from the regiments of the Veteran Reserve Corps in 
Washington. 

After the remains of the President had left the city, the work 
of capturing the assassins was renewed with energy, and 
at length. Booth and Harold were surrounded in a barn at 
Bowling Green, Va. Harold gave himself up. Booth would 
not surrender. Lieutenant Baker, who was in command of the 
party, surrounded the barn and set it on fire. Booth then slid 
down from the hay, and was shot through a crack in the barn 
by Sergt. Boston Corbett, of the cavalry. The bullet entered 
the assassin's head in almost the same place as did that fired by 
him at the President. Booth's body was brought to Washing- 
ton, and the trial of the other assassins by court-martial soon 
followed. 

Soon after this came the grand review, when the Army of 
the Potomac and Sherman's soldiers marched through the 
streets of Washington on their last parade. For two days the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



459 



boy& in blue from the East and the West marched past the 
reviewing stand, where were the President and Cabinet, Gen- 
erals Grant and Sherman, and many others who had won their 
honors with them. As they passed this stand, many an eye 
was wet with tears to miss the tall form of the loved Lin- 
coln, So the boys marched on up Pennsylvania avenue, and 
across the Potomac to Virginia, and soon by different ways to 
their homes. 




A Glimpse of Stonewall Jackson. 

COLONEL STANNARD, 9th Vt. 



HEN Harper's Ferry sur- 
Jf^ rendered to "Stonewall" 
Jackson, in September, 
1863, General Jackson halted 
his horse in front of the 0th 
Vermont, and, taking off his 
hat, solemnly said: "Boys, 
don't feel bad; you could not 
help it; it was just as God 
willed it," 

One of Jackson's staff' asked 
me if I had anything to drink, 
I handed him my flask, and 
the young Confederate captain 
poured out a horn and arro- 
gantly said: "Colonel, here is 
to the health of the Southern 
Confederacy." 



I answered: "To ask and 
accept a courtesy of a prisoner 
and then insult him is an act 
that an honorable soldier would 
scorn." 

Jackson turned on his staff 
officer and gave him a severe 
scolding, saying the repetition 
of such an insult to a prisoner 
would cost him his place. 
Then turning to me, General 
Jackson apologized for the 
conduct of his officer, saying 
that it was an exceptional act 
of insolence on the part of a 
young and reckless man; and, 
bowing gravely, the famous 
Confederate captain rode away. 




M^i'qt^in^ Ti7i^oij^h G^oi^^i^. 



"SO WE SANG THE CHORUS FROM ATLANTA TO THE 

SEA." 



A SKETCH OF THE GREAT MARCH BY 0\E WHO TRAMPED 

ALL THE WAY. 



BY P. R. McWILLL\MS, 116th ILLINOIS. 




{iteo 



N the popular mind thereis, and always will be, a peculiar ro- 
!^ mance associated with Sherman's march to the sea, which 
^MliM attaches to no other campaign of the war. The great march 
was bold in conception and faultless in execution. The cap- 
ture of Atlanta made the movement possible, and w^hen Hoed took 
his army into Tennessee, Sherman saw his way clear to carry out the 
plan which he and Grant had talked over months before. After 
chasing Hood to the Tennessee river with the greater part of 
his arm}^ General Sherman detached the Fourth and Twenty- 
third corps. He told " Old Pap " Thomas to take them, augment 
his force b}^ gathering up such troops as were lying around loose 
at various points, and whip Hood. The world knows how thor- 
oughly^ this job was done at Franklin and Nashville. I only 
mention it here because it was the utter rout of Hood by Thomas 
that made the march to the sea a success. If Hood had carried 
out his boast that he w^ould w^ater his horses in the Ohio river, it 
would have detracted much from the glory of " Uncle Billy's" 
great march through the Confederacy. But Sherman knew 
Thomas, and when he cut loose and turned the toes of his soldiers 
southward through Georgia, he had implicit confidence that the 
brave and trusted leader of the Army of the Cumberland would 
prove equal to the emergency. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 461 

Sherman qviickly concentrated at Atlanta the Fourteenth, 
Fifteenth, Seventeenth and Twentieth corps — in all about sixty 
thousand men. That part of the Sixteenth corps which had par- 
ticipated in the Atlanta campaign was consolidated with the two 
other corps of the Army of the Tennessee. For this campaign 
the army was organized as the right wing, commanded by Gen- 
eral Howard, consisting of the Fifteenth corps, General Oster- 
haus, and the Seventeenth, General Blair; and the left wing, 
commanded by General Slocum, which was composed of the 
Fourteenth corps, General Jeff C. Davis, and the Twentieth, Gen- 
eral Williams. The Fifteenth corps had four divisions, com- 
manded by Generals Woods, Hazen, John E. Smith and Corse. 
The three divisions of the Seventeenth corps were commanded by 
Generals Mower, Leggett and Giles A. Smith. The Fourteenth 
corps had three divisions, led by Generals Carlin, Morgan and 
Baird, and the Twentieth corps three. Generals Jackson, Geary 
and Ward. General Kilpatrick commanded the cavalry, which 
was organized into two brigades under Colonels Murray and 
Atkins. 

The army was reduced to the lightest possible marching order. 
The sick and wounded were sent North, and every pound of un- 
necessary baggage was left behind or destroyed. It was Sher- 
man's idea to subsist his soldiers off the country. He believed 
this entirely feasible at that season of the year, and the result 
fully justified his judgment. The arm\^ Avas not encumbered nor 
its movements impeded by the miles and miles of supply trains 
that would have been necessary if the regular rations had been 
carried. 

The world never saw a better arm\^ than that which General 
Sherman organized at Atlanta for this campaign. It was com- 
posed of men thoroughly "seasoned." They were inured to 
hardship by years of service, and their mettle had been tested on 
many hard fought fields. They believed implicitlv in their leader, 
and were ready to go auA-where and do anything, without ques- 
tion or complaint. All the soldiers knew that a great and 
important movement was about to take place, but they could 
only surmise its character. They were pretty good guessers, 
however, and by the time they started most of them knew, or 
thought they knew, as well as Sherman himself, what the general 
plan of the campaign was. They cared little about the details. 
It was enough for them to know that " Uncle Billy " was to lead, 
and they were eager to follow. Their faith in him was much like 
that of an old neo^ro woman of whom Sherman used to tell. One 



462 CAMP AND FIELD. 

day, on the march through Georgia, she joined the column and 
trudged along with it, bending under the burden of a huge bundle 
which contained all her earthly possessions. 

"Where are vou going, Aunty ? " asked General Sherman. 

"I's gwnne whar you all's gwine! " was the answer. 

It was just so with the soldiers of that army. They were 
"gwine" wherever Sherman went. 

In a general order to his troops dated November 8, 1864, Sher- 
man said : ' ' The general commanding deems it proper at this time 
toiuformthe officers and men of the Fourteenth, Fifteenth, Seven- 
teenth and Twentieth corps that he has organized them into an 
army for a special purpose, well known to the War Department 
and to General Grant. It is sufficient for you to know that it in- 
volves a departure from our present base and a long find difficult 
march to a new one. All the chances of war have been considered 
and provided for, as far as human sagacity can. All he asks of 
vou is to maintain that discipline, patience and courage which 
have characterized you in the past; and he hopes, through you, 
to strike a blow at OLir enemy that will have a material effect in 
producing what we all so much desire, his complete overthrow. 
Of all things the most important is that the men,duringmarches 
and in camp, keep their places, and do not scatter about as strag- 
glers or foragers, to be picked up by a hostile people in detail. It 
is also of the utmost importance that our wagons should not be 
loaded with anything but provisions and ammunition. All sur- 
plus servants, non-combatants and refugees should now go to 
the rear, and none should be encouraged to encumber us on the 
march. At some future time we will be able to provide for the 
poor whites and blacks who seek to escape the bondage under 
which thev are now suffering. With these few simple conditions 
the general commanding hopes to lead you to achievements equal 
in importance to those of the past." 

Another order gave in detail the organization of the force and 
a few general instructions to be followed. The army was to 
march on four roads as nearly parallel as possible; the separate 
columns to start habitually at 7 a. m., and make about fifteen 
miles per day. The order said : "The army will forage liberally 
on the country during the march. To this end each brigade com- 
mander shall organize a good and sufficient foraging party, under 
the command of one or more discreet officers, who will gather, 
near the route traveled, corn or forage of any kind, meat of any 
kind, vegetables, corn-meal, or whatever is needed by the com- 
mand, aiming at all times to keepin the wagons at least ten days' 



CAMP AND FIELD. 463 

provisions and three days' forage. Soldiers must not enter the 
dweUings of the inhabitants, or commit an^- trespass ; but durin"- 
a halt or camp they may be permitted to gather turnips, pota- 
toes and other vegetables, and to drive in stock in sight of their 
camp. To regular foraging parties must be intrusted the gath- 
ering of forage and provisions at any distance from the road 
traveled. To corps commanders alone is intrusted the power to 
destroy mills, houses, cotton-gins, etc.; and for them this general 
principle is laid down: In districts and neighborhoods where the 
army is unmolested, no destruction of such property should be 
permitted; but should guerrillas or bushwhackers molest our 
march, or should the inhabitants burn bridges, obstruct roads, 
or otherwise manifest local hostility, then army commanders 
should order and enforce a devastation more or less relentless, ac- 
cording to the measure of such hostility. As for horses, mules, 
wagons, etc., belonging to the inhabitants, the cavalry and artil- 
lery may appropriate freely and without limit; discriminating, 
however, between the rich, who are usually hostile, and the poor 
and industrious, usually neutral or friendlv. Foragin'j parties 
may also take mules or horses to t^eplace the jaded animals of 
their trains, or to serve as pack-mules for the regiment- jr 
brigades. In all foraging, of whatever kind, the parties engaged 
will refrain from abusive or threatening '.anguage, and mav, 
when the officer in command thinks proper, give written certifi- 
cates of the facts, but no receipts; and a reasonable portion will 
be left with each family for their maintenance." 

These extracts from the orders of General Sherman are given 
because they convey a clear idea of the plan upon which the long 
march was conducted. They show the origin, and the necessity, 
of the feature of that army which became famous as "Sherman's 
bummers." These were the devil-may-care fellows who kept the 
army supplied with food. No doubt there were cases of lawless- 
ness and wanton pillage, in disobedience of orders, and often the 
offenders were severely ]5unished. but generallv speaking the for- 
aging operations v/ere marked by a rigid adherence to the restric- 
tions laid down in orders. 

On November 1-i, all the corps were concentrated in and around 
Atlanta. Everything that could be of value to the enemy had 
been destroyed at Rome and other places, and the last thing be- 
fore starting Atlanta underwent a similar process. That night the 
torch w^as applied to the large manufactories of war material 
there, the railroad depots and shops, mills, foundries and other 
buildings. The next morning Atlanta lay in ruins. As fat as 



464 • CAMP AND FIELD 

possible, private property was saved from destruction, but much 
of it inevitably shared the fate that had been decreed for that 
which might properly be destroyed according to the harsh and 
relentless laws of war. Few of the m.en slept that night. Every- 
where there was a scene of excitement. The sky was lighted up 
by the glare of the iiames. The soldiers were intent upon making 
preparations for the march. The last railroad train northward 
bore many thousands of letters to far-off northern homes. The 
soldiers knew that it would be many weeks before they would 
again have opportunity to communicate with their loved ones. 

On the morning of November 15 the whole army "pulled out," 
each corps taking its designated route. The soldiers were in ex- 
cellent health and the highest spirits. They were impressed with 
the idea that thev were entering upon a campaign that would end 
the war. The^^ did not know exactly how or when, but they be- 
lieved that in the fullness of time they would bring up in the rear 
of Lee's army at Richmond and help Grant finish the job. So 
the}' yelled and sang lustily as they threw their blankets over 
their shoulders and marched off at the swinging gait that charac- 
terized the veterans of the West. There was not a man in all that 
mighty host who had the slightest doubt of success. With such 
an army, failure was impossible. 

It is not the purpose of this article to follow in detail the move- 
ments of the various columns during the march of three hundred 
miles to Savannah, which occupied more than three weeks. It 
has often been spoken of as a grand "picnic," and that was, in fact, 
about the size of it. As Sherman expected, we found the Con- 
federacy to be but a hollow shell, with nothing on the inside that 
could do much harm to anjdoody, or, at least, to such a torce as 
ours. There was little fighting — nothing that rose to the dignity 
of a battle. At a few points the rebels collected small bodies of 
militia and made a show of resistance, but in all cases thev were 
so quickly brushed away as scarcely to impede the march for a 
single hour. 

Of food there was no lack, but rather a surfeit. We had, all the 
way down, an abundance of fresh meat and vegetables. These 
were a gratifying change to case-hardened stomachs which for 
years had known little outside of "hardtack" and the other arti- 
cles which made up the regular army ration. The wagons were 
kept full for any emergency that might arise, while the haversacks 
of the soldiers constantly bulged to their utmost capacity, as they 
were supplied from day to day. At night, around the bivouac 
fires, the men pitched their little shelter tents, cooked and ate 



CAMP AND FIEI.D. / 465 

their supplies, and laughed and joked and sang with the keenest 
zest. They lived on the fat of the land, and were in a continual 
state of exhilaration. They felt that each night found them, in 
the words ofthe old hymn, " a daj^'s march nearer home." It might 
be a long and roundabout wa}^ but they were as sure that they 
^voul(l get there as they were of their existence. 

In describing this march, General Sherman speaks of the skill 
and success of the soldiers in collecting food and forage as one of 
its conspicuous features. No other army during the war marched 
under such peculiar conditions and circumstances. No other 
army sustained itself for so long a time by living upon the coun- 
try through which it passed. Each brigade foraging party con- 
sisted of about fifty men, well organized and officered. These 
parties would be dispatched before daylight, with a knowledge 
of the intended route and the place of camping. They would 
proceed on foot five or six miles from the route, visiting every 
farm and plantation within range. Often a squad would procure 
a family carriage or wagon, load it with bacon, raieal, sweet 
potatoes, poultry^in fact, anything good to eat. With this they 
would regain the main road, usualh- in advance of the train. 
When the latter c.-nne np, the supplies gathered would be delivered 
by each party to its brigade commissary, who took them in 
charge, and from time to time issued them to the men in the regu- 
lar way. The foragers idways carried their muskets ready for 
use in an instant, if necessity should arise. Now and then the 
foragers stirred up a small body of rebel cavalry, but as a rule 
they met with no serious molestation. Naturallv, every soldier 
did more or less foraging on his own account, but the great body 
of supplies for the army was obtained through the organized ef- 
forts of the regularly constituted foraging parties. I have said 
this much of the manner in which the army was supplied with 
food and forage, because this was the especial feature of this 
campaign, and is vividly remembered b\^ every soldier who 
marched "from Atlanta to the sea." 

From Decembers to 10 the different corps converged around 
Savannah. There was a strong Confederate force there in com- 
mand of General Hardee. As soon as it had become apparent 
that this was the point on the coast where Sherman intended to 
strike, the rebel authorities made frantic efforts to collect troops 
sufficient to defend the place. There were heavy fortifications 
around the town, the most important work being Fort McAllis- 
ter, on the right bank of the Ogeechee river. To our division 
(Hazen's) of the Fifteenth corps, was assigned the duty of as- 



466 CAMP AND FIELD, 

saulting this fort. P/arly in the morning of December 12, the 
division crossed the river by a pontoon bridge, some distance 
above the fort. A good part of the day was occnpied in making 
the necessar}^ preparations, and it was toward evening when the 
dispositions were complete and the order was given to assault. 
The men dashed forward in magnificent style. A heavy fire of 
artiller\^ and musketry was encountered, but this only served to 
quicken the pace. Obstructions were hurled aside, and the men 
swarmed into the ditch, up the sides, and over the parapet. Vic- 
torv was complete. Such of the garrison as were not killed or 
disabled threw down their arms and surrendered. The casualties 
in our division numbered barely a hundred. It was a gallant 
dash, and General Sherman complimented Hazen and his soldiers 
in the warmest terms. 

It is not necessary to describe the operations that culminated 
in the capture of Savannah. Sherman gradually but surely 
closed in around the doomed city, and Hardee saw that the jig 
was up. Sherman hoped to capture him and his whole force. To 
this end he made ever^^ effort to close up the avenues of escape. 
The rebel commander contrived to slip out, however, with most 
■of his army. The evacuation took place during the night of the 
twentieth, and on the following morning the city was occupied 
bv our troops. The army went wild with joy at the successful 
outcome of the campaign. For days, knowing that Savannah 
must fall sooner or later, the soldiers had devoted much of their 
leisure time to writing long letters to their families and friends, 
"iving an account of their wonderful march. The first ship 
northward carried an amount of mail matter that was enor- 
mous. 

This was the end of the "March to the Sea." After a brief 
time for rest the army moved up through the Carolinas, and then, 
with the surrender of Johnston's Confederate army, came the end. 



Second Battle of Fort Fisher. 



tTANUAJiT 13, 15, 18G3. 

A Day Ever to be Remembered by Federals and Confederates. 



-SL 



=^^-^ 



J^— s- 




SECOND fleet as large 
and as powerful as was 
the first, concentrated 
off Federal Point, Jan. 13, 1805. 
This was supported by land 
forces under Major-General 
Terry, with 8,000 men. At 
4.30 A. M., the landing of the 
troops commenced, and at 7.30 
A. M., the Brooklyn opened 
upon the shore covering the 
landing. The monitors headed 
on to the fort, opening fire at 
8.40 A. M. At -4 p. M., the army 
was landed and the fleet, re- 
lieved of a fatiguing labor, 
joined the ironclads in a hot 
and continuous bombardment 
until G p. M. The second day 
was a repetition of the first 
with serious and stern contin- 
gencies. Sabbath, January 15, 
the gates of morning opened 
a day ever to be remembered 
by Confederates and Federals 
in their contest for supremacy. 
The honor to command gun 
No. 1 of my vessel was be- 
stowed upon the writer. It 
was neither idle nor wasteful 
in its discharges. Until 2 p. 
M. the navy thundered her 
heavy guns, while the fort 

(4: 



grew less active and weakened 
visibly, delivering her fire at 
longer intervals and with less 
effect. 

At this time the firing from 
the fleet ceased, and the 
army prepared for the final 
charge. There had been 2.500 
marines and sailors landed, 
and at 4 p. m. the storm com- 
menced. While the soldiers 
assailed the merlons farthest 
inland, the naval brigade at- 
tacked the eastern bastion 
looking seaward. The latter 
were repulsed with a heavy 
loss. The army, however, 
more successful, at sundown 
had taken seven merlons. The 
Confederate flag had been 
twice shot away and the Stars 
and Stripes were now hoisted 
in its place. Night dropped 
her curtain, but the brave sol- 
diers fought on until 10 p. m., 
when cheers arose from fort 
and shore and from the decks. 
Yards were manned, blue 
lights and sky rockets shone 
through the darkness, steam 
whistles shrieked, and officers 
and men cheered wildly over 
their victory. 
22) 



TROOPER FEE'S GHOST. 

A Humorous and Strang-e Incident from the Note Book of a Veteran. 

By JOHN HEINGARTNER, Sergeant 2d New Jersey Cavalry. 



tARLY in the year 1864, on our return from the Smith and 
Grierson raid into Mississippi, we pitched our tents near 
Memphis, Tenn. One evening between nine and ten 
o'clock, as I was standing in front of my tent, I heard a horse 
coming at a dead run toward our camp. As the horse and 
rider approached. I recognized James Fee, a lad of eighteen, 
who shouted: "Oh, sergeant! this is terrible!" " What is ter- 
rible? Are you sick, James?" "No, I'm not sick, but it's 
worse. I've been haunted by a ghost! " " That's too good, my 
boy; come, tell us about your adventure. I must see that 
ghost before I go to sleep." After Fee had wiped the large 
drops of perspiration from his forehead, he related the follow- 
ing incident: " I've been in Memphis without a pass, and to 
avoid the night picket I made a circuit around the old fair 
ground. As I approached the cross road my horse sniffed the 
air, stopped short and refused to move forward. I could not 
see what the horse was frightened at, but looking over my 
shoulder I got terrified too at what I saw. A skeleton-like 
specter on horseback followed me. My horse started to run in 
an opposite direction and never stopped until I arrived here." 

Requesting some of my comrades to accompany me, I found 
no one inclined to run the risk. If I had asked them to go for- 
aging, no one would have refused; but to fight a ghost was 
altogether different. In less time than it takes to write this I 
had my horse saddled, my saber buckled, my carbine slung, 
and I started alone for the haunted place. When I approached 
the spot described by Fee, my horse stopped so suddenly that I 
bounced nearly over the pomniel of the saddle; all my endeav- 



CAMP AXD FITJLD 469 

ors to make my horse move on were in vain. I dismounted, 
took him by the reins and walked him fifteen or twenty paces. 
At the same time tlie affrighted animal leaned his head on my 
shoulder as if to seek protection against some unseen danger. 
I was satisfied that the horse had seen something, but I could 
neither see nor hear anything. I mounted again and my horse 
started as if the Old Harry was after him. As I was not super- 
stitious, I turned about, resolved at any risk to unriddle the mys- 
tery. 

Having some control over my horse I compelled him to face 
the danger, that is to say, I held him to the spot. He was 
snorting, panting, sniffing the air and rearing on his hind legs 
in such a way that it was difficult for me to remain in the sad- 
dle. Nevertheless I succeeded in managing him. I perceived 
my own and my horse's shadow, which to my mind accounted 
for Fee's affright, but it must be something else which fright- 
ened the horse. I held my right hand over my eyes and scru- 
tinized the field, and at length discovered the ghost. It was 
simply a dead horse lying in the field about twenty or thirty 
yards off the road. The smell of the animal had frightened the 
horse, and this with the shadow was all there was to Fee's 
ghost. 




A DEATH-WOUND THAT DID NOT KILL 

fEORGE SINSEL was a private While there he was under the care of 

ill the 8th N. Y. Heavy Artillery. Dr. Moore, and, on the 23d day of Oc- 

At the charge on the rebel works tober following, Dr. Bradley, the assist- 

at Petersburg, on the 16th day of June, ant surgeon, took from the unhealed 

1864, a niiiiie ball struck him in the wound a piece of rebel lead, which had 

head, breaking his skull. The ball lain there over four months. Now Mr. 

divided, part going outside and part Sinsel is well apparently as ever, though 

going under the skull. For three days he has a depression in his skidl large 

he lay on the field and was leported enough to hide a walnut and over which 

dead. After this time he wandered there is no skull bone. This case was 

into a hospital and was treated, the a wonder to the surgeons at the time 

physicians taking out a number of it occurred and a greater wonder to 

bones from his head. He was then sent the man himself that he should be 

to St. Mary's Hospital, Rochester, alive. 



470 



CAMP AXD FlEl r». 



THE eOtiNTERS^GN WAS "MARY." 



By IViARGAKE-T L.YTINCE. 



©jl^WAS near tlie break of day, but 

TOVJx^ ,|,j^^ iiidoii was shining brightly, 
Tlie west wind as it passed the flowers 

Set eacji one swaying lightly; 
'J"he sentry slow paced to and fro 

A faithful night-watch keeping, 
AVhile in the tents behind him stretched 

His comrades — all were sleeping. 

81ow to and fro the sentry paced, 

His nuisket on his shoulder. 
But not a tliought of death or war 

Was with the brave young soldier. 
Ah. no ! his heart was far away 

Where, on a AVestern prairie, 
A rose-twined cottage stood. That 
night 

Tiie countersign was " Mary." 

And there his own true love lie saw, 

Her blue eyes kindly beaming. 
Above them, on her sun-kissed brow, 

Her curls like sunshine gleaming. 
And heard her singing, as siie churned 

The butter in the dairy, 
The song lie loved the best. That 
night 

The countersign was " ]\Iary." 

"Oh, for one kiss from her! " he sighed. 
When, up the lone road glancing. 

He spied a form — a little form — 
With faltering steps advancing. 



And as it neared him silently 

He gazed at it in wonder; 
Then dropped his musket to his hand. 

And challenged: "Who goes yon- 
der?" 
Still on it came. " Not one step more, 

Be you man, child, or fairy. 
Unless you give the countersign. 

Halt I Who goes there?" "'Tis 
Mary," 
A sweet voice cried, and in his arms 

The girl he left behind him 
Half fainting fell. O'er many miles 

She'd bravely toiled to find him. 

" I heard that you were wounded, dear," 

She sobbed ; " my heart was breaking ; 
I could not stay a moment, but. 

All other ties forsaking, 
I traveled, by my grief made strong. 

Kind Heaven watching o'er me, 
Until — Unhurt and well ? " " Yes, 
love," 

" — At last you stood before me." 

They told me that I could not pass 

The lines to seek my lover 
Before day fairly came ; but I 

Pressed on ere night was over, 
And as T told my name, I found 

The way free as our prairie." 
"Because, thank (Jod! to-night," he 
said, 

"The countersign is 'Mary.'" 



WILD'S AFRK AN BRKJADE." SENATOR CONNESS AND GRANT. 



T^HE 1st Mass. liegt. furnished the gEXATOR CONNESS, of California, 
' first general to command colored appears to have been the first man 

i-roops — Capt. Edward A. Wild, who t,o publicly recommend that General 

commanded the brigade known as Grant be placed in command of the 

" Wild's African Brigade." Armv of the I'otomac. 



SIEGE 0F PEtERSBdRe. 

FEBRUAUT 26, 1865. 

CORPORAL DAVK'S LAST SHOT. 



— «— fr- 




BOUT six o'clock a. m., our orderly sergeant informed 
me that I was detailed for picket duty. 1 put on my 
equipments, grasped my rifle, and joined the detach- 
ment on the parade ground. We passed through 
the works to the left of Fort Howard, and, after passing 
some open ground, reached a strip of heavy pine tim- 
ber, which screened our camp from the view of the rebels. 
Here we halted to load, after which we moved on. When we 
emerged from the woods into the clear space beyond, we came 
in full view^ of both the Union and Confederate picket lines. 
The picket posts were built of pine logs, breast high, with dirt 
banked up in front. There w^ere eight men in the post, with a 
corporal in charge. With the exception of one man — a tent- 
mate — I was unacquainted with the men on our post; our regi- 
ment having been largely recruited during the winter. Every- 
thing being quiet we made ourselves as comfortable as circum- 
stances would permit. A fire was kindled for making coffee, 
and, lighting their pipes, the boys began conversation. The 
corporal, who was a stout, resolute looking man, took the 
opportiniity to change his clothing, and I noticed an ugly scar 
on his breast. Out of curiosity I asked where he got that mark. 
He answered, "At Gettysburg, my lad." 

I soon noticed that the other six men in the post were 
acquainted with him, and addressed him as Corporal Dave. 
After lighting his pipe. Corporal Dave told how he got wounded. 
" You see," said he, "I'm a Texan, and belonged to Hood's 
famous Texas brigade, which got cut up so at Gettysburg, July 
2, 1863. We were on the right of the line and were trying to 
turn the left flank of the Yankees, in order to get possession of 



472 CAMP AND FIELD. 

a ridge called Round Top. Longstreet was driving the Yankees 
in the peach orchard and we were hurrying to take possession 
of those hills. Colonel Vincent's brigade of Yankees got there 
a few minutes ahead of us. I tell you, boys, it was the hottest 
place I was ever in, and I have been in a good many hot places, 
too. The bullets fiew like hail, and pretty soon one hit me 
where you see the scar. We lost little Round Top and I was 
taken prisoner. I tell you, if we had taken those hills, we would 
have whipped Meade, and captured Washington, Baltimore, and 
Philadelphia; the North would have made peace, the South 
would have gained its independence, and the fighting would 
have been over." I ventured to dissent from the corporal's 
opinion, and the consequence was that we had an angry discus- 
sion, I asked how it was that he was serving in the Union 
army, and he replied that after his wound healed he had 
escaped from prison and enlisted in the Union army for a big 
bounty. I began to think that Corporal Dave was a rebel still. 
After that I found that three others of the men had served in 
the Southern army. One of them, a tall Georgian, said the 
best shooting he ever had was when Colonel Shaw and his nig- 
gers charged on Fort Wagner. My tent-mate, an honest Irish- 
man, whispered that we were among a lot of secesh, and had 
better look out, I noticed through the day that the corporal 
and his chums had a good deal of private consultation: but ir 
the evening, when my turn came to stand vidette, I had almost 
forgotten my suspicions. It grew dark, and the wind being 
light from the northwest, I could hear the Confederate pickets 
talking, laughing, and singing an old-fashioned camp-meeting 
tune. Pretty soon I heard the relief coming, and Corporal 
Dave came out with a squad to relieve the pickets. He told me 
to go back into the picket post. I noticed that all the ex-rebels 
were with him, but had no suspicion that anything was wrong. 
When I reached the picket post there was no one there but my 
Irish tent-mate. As it was getting chilly, I unstrapped my 
overcoat from my knapsack, took off my cartridge box, and 
leaning my musket against the logs, began to put my coat on. 
I was standing up. plainly visible to the enemy, by the light of 
the picket fire. I had got one arm in my overcoat sleeve and 
was feeling for the other, when a musket was discharged, and a 
ball struck the logs by my side, and before I had time to change 
my position six more shots were fired in quick succession. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 473 

Two more balls struck the logs and the others whizzed by me. 
I got my coat on as quickly as possible, grasped my musket, and 
fired as near as I could guess in the direction of the enemy, 
and then dropped under cover. The whole line fired a few 
rounds, and an officer came to inquire the cause of the disturb- 
ance. I told him the circumstances, and he ordered my tent- 
mate and myself to go with him to the vidette post. On our 
arrival we found that the corporal and the six men were no 
longer there. A few^ minutes later we heard the rebel pickets 
challenge some one, and then came a volley of musketry. 
When the firing ceased we heard groans of agony, and we rec- 
ognized the voice of Corporal Dave. We remained on vidette 
duty until next morning, there being no one left in the post 
to relieve us, and then returned to camp. A few nights after- 
wards, we learned from a rebel deserter that on that Sunday 
night in question seven Yankee deserters came into their lines 
and had been fired on by mistake, one of them dying from his 
wounds. So Corporal Dave fired his last shot at me. 

startling News from New Orleans. First Colored Officer to Fall. 




q^HE first intimation that General Jf lEUT. A. S. SANBORN, of the 1st 
I Grant was to take command of the District of Columbia Colored lle^t., 



Army of the Potomac came from the murdered by Dr. Wright, at Norfolk, 

New Orleans correspondent of the New Va., was probably the first officer of a 

York Daih/ News, in a letter to that colored regiment who died in defense 

paper, dated August 1, 1863. of the Union. 



HONOR TO THE 65th N. Y. 



THE only flag taken at the battle of 
Fair Oaks by our troops was the 
flag of the 22d N. C, captured by the 
65th N. Y. 



474 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



IVlORRis Island NIkx/lories. 

By H. T. PECK, Company A, I 0th Conn. Vols. 



1MIND me now of days long past, 
When, on old ]\lonis Island's 

We faced War's awful teniiicst lilast, 
And saw the Hood of liattle pour. 

Before us Sumter's battered walls 
Stood grimly 'bove the ocean tide, 

])efiant of the iron balls 

That rained against her seaward side.' 

Fort Wagner's earthwork nearer rose, 
In line of Charleston's roofs and 
spires, 

AVhose sandy slopes, at daylight's close, 
Were lit by powder-flashing fires. 

And further on, in grim array. 

Fort Johnson's guns foreboding ill, 

A whirring shell oft sent our way — 
The Morris-Island •' whip-poor-will." 

From sedgy marsh to harbor bound 
Our line of siege extended wide, 

Whose" Parrotts "oft, with thunderous 
sound. 
Sent death unto the i-ebel side. 

Three hundred pounds of "boot-leg" 
shell 
Sent forth to harvest human crops. 
And in return, to pay us well. 

The '• Johnnies " launched their 
" blacksmith shops." 



And what is that, which in a night 
In yonder reedy marsh upsprung ? 

'Tis the " Swamp Angel " in its might. 
Prepared to talk with flaming tongue ; 

And e'en to Charleston's farthest 
bound 
Attentive audience to seek, 
The theme of Justice to expound 

In language plain to all, though 
" Greek." 

Shattered and torn by shot and shell. 
The " Beacon House " behind us 
stood. 

As if, all eloquent, to tell 

The tale of War's destructive flood, — 

To speak of those who bravely faced 
The deadly storm of shell and ball, 

And on that lonely island waste 

Gave to their country's cause their 
all. 

Such are the memories that will fill 
The active mind in waking hours. 

With magic power the soul to thrill, 
As currents pulse electric wires. 

And e'en while on my conch I lie. 
And all around is calm and still, 

How oft I view, with spirit eye, 

Those scenes, and list that "whip- 
poor-will." 



HELD AT BAY. 



THE Knoxville W/iig of January 30. 
1863, said : " For the first time 
since the war began each Southern 
army is lield at bay by a superior aboli- 
tion force." 



First Three Years' Regiment. 

•CpHE first regiment raised for three 
years or the war w-as the 70th, the 
first regiment of the Excelsior brigade, 
raised by Col. (now Gen.) Daniel E. 
Sickles. 



IN KOUR CHAPTERS. 

A STRANGE CELEBRATION BY PRISONERS OF WAR. 



A Banquet Under Difficulties and What it Cost. 




SEEKINQ SANTA CLATJS IN PRISON WALLS. 

By FRANK A. BURR. 



I. 

'AMMA, do you know that it's only two weeks till Christ- 
mas! I wonder if Nadine will be well then? Oh! if 
she only was well and papa Avould come home, what a 
beautiful Christmas we would have!" 
A little twelve-year old girl uttered these words, almost in a 
breath, and the mother, who sat in another part of the room, 
by the bedside of a pretty child some four years younger, had 
no chance to respond. The girl who wished so earnestly for 
her sister's recovery and for her father's return, stood looking 
out of the window, watching the fast falling snowflakes that 
were being piled into great drifts by the driving wind. Her 
long, dark hair fell carelessly over her shoulders, and a few 
becoming curls fringed the broad forehead that crowned 
rather a striking face. 

It was near the end of one of the most eventful years of the his- 
tory of the republic. It was in December, 1803. Vicksburg had 
fallen. The billows of angry war rolling up from Virginia had 
l)een broken at Gettysburg, and turned southward again by the 
splendid bulwark of Union arms. But the dark clouds of a des- 
perate conflict yet darkened the skies of the land, and the fierce 
clash of sword and musket still drowned the voices of peace. 
Thousands of homes were wrapt in sadness and mourning for 
their absent ones. The approach of Christmas-tide, usually 
so full of joy and merriment, brought to the hearthstones of the 



476 CAMP AND FIELD. 

nation, only a vision of the old-time happiness in a troubled 
dream of war and death. 

It was in a quiet, simple home, not far from Syracuse, N. Y., 
that the scene mentioned in the opening lines of this sketch 
occurred. It was the counterpart of thousands of others in 
every part of the land, in which the little ones, unable to 
understand the strange ways of men, looked forward to the 
holiday time with wistful longing for the return of the absent. 
The snow kept on falling, as if it would gladly cover with a 
spotless mantle all the wounds strife had made. The little girl 
still stood at the window looking out upon the dreary scene 
before her, while her mother sat by the bedside of her sick 
child. Suddenly she left the scene without, and, walking 
slowly over to her mother, took a seat at her feet. She was 
silent a moment, as if in deep thought, and then looking up 
said, almost appealingly: — 

" Mamma, why do men go to war?" 

" My child, men go to war for great principles. You would 
not understand if I told you. Your father went to battle for 
his country l)ecause he loved you and me. It was his duty. 
Don't be sad, darling, he will think of us at Christmas, even if 
he isn't with us." 

"Yes, I know he will, but it is so hard to be without him. 
But we'll think of him, won't we?" replied the child, and then, 
as if visited by a sudden inspiration, she said: "Why, 
mamma, I'll write him a letter and tell him how much we 
miss him, and in it I'll ask him to come home for Christmas." 

The little girl stole away from the sick room and wrote the 
letter. It was a child's message to a father. It told of Nadine's 
illness and breathed hope for her recovery. It pictured the 
loneliness of the household, the mother's anxiety, the dreari- 
ness of winter, and the longing for the return of papa. The 
missive was sent on its way to reach the father the day before 
the child so longed for him to come home. 



II. 

Christmas Eve in Prison. 
It was Christmas eve, the close of a dreary, desolate day. 
Even to those who were free to come and go at will, the dull, 
cloudy sky was gloomy and dispiriting, and cast a shade of mel- 
ancholy over what ought to be the most joyous festival in all the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 477 

year. To the nine hundred and fifty Union officers confined in 
Libby prison, and tlie thousands of private soldiers that were 
huddled together at Belle Isle, on the banks of the James river, 
just beyond the city of Richmond, the occasion was doubly dis- 
mal. The afternoon was fast running on toward the gloaming, 
when Dick Turner, the keeper of Libby, appeared with the mail, 
for which every prisoner had been longing for weeks. The letters 
were quickly distributed, and it was not long before the eager 
ones who had received them were sitting apart in different 
parts of the building, greedily reading the news from home. 
Almost a dead silence prevailed. The time was a solemn one. 
The realization of having to spend the happiest and holiest of all 
holidays in a prison pen, remote from the hearthstone and its 
loved ones, was sharpened and made keener than ever by the 
arrival of those tender messages from home. An hour went by, 
and most of the fortunate ones had read their letters, folded 
them away to be read again to-morrow, and were walking about 
or engaged in quiet conversation to distract their minds from 
the thoughts of home and Christmas eve. One jovial 
spirited fellow, w^ho had helped to cheer scores of gloomy 
hearts in camp and on the march, and afterward in prison, 
walking down the long room of the prison, spied a friend 
sitting, gloomy and silent, apart from every one. His chin 
rested on his right palm and his elbow was supported 
by his knee. His head was bowed low, and in his left hand, 
with outstretched arm, a white letter was clutched. He was 
the image of sorrow and despair. The merry hearted prisoner 
approached, slapped him on the back, and exclaimed: — 

''Come, Rocky, old boy, don't be so sad. Cheer up. Remem- 
ber this is Christmas eve." Lieutenant Rockwell, of the 97th 
New York infantry, looked up at his friend, but for a minute 
did not speak. Then, with an effort, as if choking back his 
emotions, he handed him the letter he held in his hand and 
said: — 

'■Colonel, read that." 

The speaker rose and the two men walked slowly to a 
window inside of the building overlooking the James river. 
Twilight was fast approaching, and the shadows were just 
beginning to settle over the scene. In the distance, a long, low 
ridge of hills lifted themselves up against the sky, like sentinels 
guarding the prison from the armed hosts which lay beyond. 



478 CAMP AND FIELD. 

The two men stood in the window. Just below rolled the James 
on its way to the sea, and the James river canal almost touched 
the base of the prison walls. About them murmured the soft 
winds of evening, breathing suggestions of liberty and peace in 
distant homes. In the fast fading light of this lonely Christ- 
mas eve the lieutenant's friend read the letter. This is what it 

said: — 

December 11, I860. 

Dear, Dear Papa: — It was snowing so hard to-day I couldn't go to school, 
and so I staid at home with mamma and Nadine. Poor little thing, she has been 
very sick, but she's getting a little better now. You would hardly know her, 
papa, she looks so thin and pale. Once this afternoon, when I went over to the 
bed, she put her little white hands up to my face and looked up to me with her 
big blue eyes, which look bigger than ever since she has been sick, and said: 
" I love you, Clara ; you look so much like papa. Poor, dear papa, I wonder if 
he will ever come home? " And then she said : " I wonder why he stays away 
so long? " I couldn't answer her, papa, and I had to go to the window and look 
out at the drifting snow to hide my tears. When mamma came in, I sat down by 
her side and asked her what she meant when she said you were a prisoner of 
war. She told me, but I can't understand why they should keep you so long. 
It's a great while since we have seen you, and it seems so hard that you should 
be kept away from us. It's almost Christmas, pajia. Please do come home by 
that time. It will make us all so happy, for we love you very dearly. Christ- 
mas isn't half so nice without you, papa. Ask them to let you come home, just 
for Christmas. I know they won't refuse you. I can't write any more now, and 
the only wish we all have is that you may come home, and you will, won't you? 
Every night when I kneel down to say my prayers I ask the good Lord to keep 
you safe and let you come home to us. So does mamma, too; and even Nadine 
doesn't forget you in her simple prayers. We shall watch and wait for you till 
Christmas. We all send lots of love, and will be so happy when you come 
home. Your loving daughter, Clara. 



III. 

A Christmas Eve Tr-agedy. 
The colonel could not repress the tears which filled his eyes 
as he finished reading the child's simple letter. He folded it, 
replaced it in its tiny envelope, and handed it back to the lieu- 
tenant, who stood silent and motionless beside him. It had just 
been placed carefully in the owners pocket, and the two men 
were standing, looking out upon the scene, neither caring to 
break the silence first. A cry of terror from beneath relieved 
them of the suspense, and, looking down, they saw that the 
fragile ice on the canal had given way beneath the feet of the 



CAMP AND FIEI.Ii, 479 

skaters on its surface, and six of the pleasure seekers, all chil- 
dren, were struggling in its waters. The scene was an appall- 
ing one. The cries of the helpless children fighting for life in 
the dark, icy waters of the canal, and the shouts of the excited 
throng along the banks, brought to the windows of the prison 
nearly one thousand brave-hearted men, whose hands would have 
been quick to save had they been free to act. But the harsh de- 
cree of war rose like an impassable barrier between them and 
the duty they would gladly have done for humanity, and they 
stood on the walls helpless, idle and mute, watching the fierce 
struggle below. An interval of confusion and suspense, and 
five of the imperiled skaters were safely rescued. The sixth, a 
fair-haired, manly little fellow, was taken from the water stiff 
and cold, and laid tenderly upon the bank to await identifica- 
tion. Suddenly a wild cry startled the throng gathered on the 
banks of the canal, as well as those in the prison, and a woman 
with flashing eye and disheveled hair, rushed through the 
crowd crying: "My child! my childl Give memychildl" 

The drowned boy was her child. She instinctively ran to the 
spot where his body laj', and the crowd fell back to let her 
pass. With one long, low moan, she clutched the rigid form to 
her breast, speaking to it in endearing words, and trying by all 
the means known to motherhood, to warm it into life again. As 
the twilight faded into the gloaming, the dead boy was carried 
tenderly away to his home, followed by the heartbroken 
mother, and the lights of Christmas eve began to twinkle in 
the windows of the city. To the strong men who had been 
compelled to stand helpless and view it, the scene of death 
and sorrow just described was almost a torture. After it 
was all over, they turned to the quiet of the prison, and most 
of them sat speechless or discussed in low voice the sad 
occurrence. Each man seemed to have partaken of the sad- 
ness of the scene he had witnessed, and the gloom of the hour 
was made deeper still by the thoughts which it suggested. 
Hardly a man spoke aloud. The silence was like death. It 
was painful in its intensity. Unable to endure the terrible 
monotony any longer, some one finally rose, and, walking 
hastily across the floor, exclaimed: — 

"For God's sake, men, let's do something to break this 
monotony. It will drive us mad." Then turning to a fellow 
prisoner he said: " McCauley, sing for us." 



480 CAMP AND FIELE 

McCauley was an assistant engineer in the navy, who had 
been captured in a naval engagement some months before. He 
had an excellent voice, and had often whiled away many an 
hour with his songs, and had done much to sustain the spirits 
of his companions in prison. A hundred other voices united in 
the request. He sang for them the first stanza of " Rock Me 
to Sleep, Mother." 

The tender words of the simple old ballad, pouring out upon 
the quiet air of the night, touched the heart-strings of every 
man. One verse was enough. The private soldiers confined as 
prisoners in Pemberton's warehouse, just across the street, had 
caught the strains of McCauley's voice, and one of them called 
to the singer: 

"Officer, for God's sake, don't sing another line of that 
song." 

The request was seconded by half a thousand others, and the 
pathetic words of the ballad, which had brought tears to count- 
less eyes that had seen the flash of cannon and the gleam of 
bayonet without flinching, were left unsung. But the song 
had broken the spell which hung over the prison, and the men 
became gay in spite of their gloomy surroundings. A dance 
was suggested, and soon the orchestra, led by Lieutenant 
Chandler of a West Virginia regiment, struck up, and the 
shuffle of a thousand feet beat time to the notes of the quadrille 
and waltz. A minstrel performance followed later in the even- 
ing, given by a company of officers who had organized their musi- 
cal forces into an excellent orchestra and glee club, Wlien the 
entertainment was concluded, dancing was resumed, and the 
fun began anew. It was a stag party, probably the most novel 
ever given to the world, hundreds of officers dancing the Vir- 
ginia reel by the dim, flickering lights of a few old lamps in a 
gloomy prison in a hostile city on Christmas eve. The atmos- 
phere changed easily in the evening, and the dreariness and 
silence of the twilight gave way to merry making, wild enough 
in its character to contrast strongly with the utter loneliness of 
its surroundings. Far into the night, old men and young 
romped, and danced, and sang, and yelled like school boys at 
play, and then, when time was touching the sands with the 
wand of a newborn day, an old, grizzled officer appeared 
among the crowd with a well-worn sock in his hand, and said: 
" Now, children, it is late, and this is Christmas eve. Hangup 



CAMP AND FIELD. 481 

your stockings where Santa Claus will find them, and go to 
bed," The suggestion was adopted, and half a thousand 
officers hung their stockings along the wall as they had in 
childhood. Libby Prison was asleep and dreaming of Santa 
Claus. 

The rollicking began with the day. Men did not care to think 
of serious things. Occasionally, when their thoughts turned 
toward home and their spirits began to wane, some new game 
would be proposed and started with a will. When the church 
bells summoned the citizens who dwelt in the capitol of the 
Confederacy to divine service, the voice of Chaplain McCabe of 
a Maryland regiment called the rollicking prisoners to divine 
service. Morning, afternoon, and evening, the ministers who 
were also prisoners gathered their comrades together and 
invoked the divine blessing on them and the cause for which 
they were suffering. The hours between the service were filled 
full of games, pastimes and songs; to keep away the sad 
thoughts that ever and anon would come unbidden. 



IV. 
Christmas Dinner in Libby. 

The Christmas dinner was the great feature of the day, but, 
with all but a very few, there was not much to make it a meal. 
No luxuries, and, in many instances, not enough to satisfy the 
pangs of hunger, was at hand. Yet all spread their humble 
feast upon the floor, and gathered around in little knots of 
three or four, and went through the form of a Christmas feast. 
Apple butter spread on corn bread, occasionally a single potato 
or a little piece of bacon, perhaps a scrap of meat, or a chunk 
of dried beef, stood in the place of the bountifully spread table 
in their homes far away, over which was spread a shadow, 
because of the vacant chair at the family board. With these 
crude and rude necessities of life, the prisoners served to each 
other imaginary dishes of turkey and cranberry sauce, plum 
pudding and other dainties, and they laughed, joked and 
frolicked over the illusion, and got all the comfort that brave 
men possibly could out of the dispiriting surroundings. 

Perhaps ten officers out of the one thousand confined there had 
a full meal that day. They had been lucky enough to smuggle 
in a few dollars before the holidays and to have them exchanged 



482 CAMP AND FIELD. 

for Confederate money, witli which they induced the pris-^^iv 
officials to purchase for them a few necessities which were 
luxuries to them. A description of one little group in the 
throng huddled into the tobacco warehouse called Libby Prison, 
is essential, as it is the groundwork of my whole story. The 
officer who presided over it is the same who read the letter from 
Lieutenant Rockwell's little daughter, and who now, almost 
twenty years after the event, recalls the incidents here related. 

Many weeks before the holidays, he had written home, ask- 
ing that a box of eatables be sent to him. He also wanted 
money. But he could not ask for it, nor could it be sent to him 
unless concealed so as to escape the eye of the prison officials. 
The old United States notes bore the pictures of Mr, Lincoln. 
At the end of his letter he said: ''Send me two of Lincoln's 
pictures." 

The letter reached home. An ample box was quickly pre- 
pared for him, and his mother cast about for two of President 
Lincoln's pictures to send to him. 

'* It isn't pictures he wants," said his sweetheart, now his 
wife, " it is money." 

She quickly took two $)!() notes, crowded them into a tiny 
druggists' vial, cut open one of the four pieces of dried beef 
that were in the box, carefully concealed it and then drew the 
meat together, and no one would have ever detected the arts 
woman had devised to get money to her lover. 

In due time the box and its precious contents arrived at 
Libby Prison, and finally found its way to the owner, 
after being carefully inspected by the Confederate author- 
ities. When it came to the officer's hands he quickly 
overhauled it, looking carefully into every possible and impos- 
sible place he could think of for the money he has so much 
coveted. He looked in vain and began to empty the box. He 
took the dried beef out, hung it up on the prison wall, and day 
by day disposed of it and the other contents of his box among 
his little mess. It was not all gone when the rumor came that the 
Union soldiers who were on Belle Isle were starving. The 
officers secured a parole for one of their number to go over and 
investigate. Gen. Neal Dow of Maine, the noted temperance 
advocate, was selected. He returned with a sorrowful story of 
the sufferings of the soldiers in the exposed camp on the 
opposite side of the James. He assembled the one thousand 



CAMP AND FIELD. 483 

officers and recounted the touching story of what he had seen 
and heard there, closing his remarks with, " For God's sake, 
gentlemen, if any of you have anything to spare, send it to 
those starving men." 

Each officer responded nobly. One by one they went to their 
scanty board, and, taking the lion's share therefrom, gladly 
contributed it to the soldiers whom Neal Dow had visited. The 
officer whose story I am writing had consumed all the contents 
of his box excei)t three pieces of dried beef. Two of these he 
sent to the camp across the river, keeping one for himself. .The 
next day he began cutting into the last piece. Two days later, 
and the day before Christmas, he was hacking away at the 
meat, getting a few chips for his dinner. The knife struck a 
hard substance. A minute later he pulled out the vial which 
loving hands had placed in this singular receptacle, and cau- 
tiously withdrew the two Lincoln pictures for which he had 
written. They had finally reached him. almost by a miracle. 

"Just in time for a Ciiristmas dinner," was the first thought 
and exclamation. He sold one of the $10 bills for $150 Confed. 
■erate money, and got tlie prison keeper to buy him from the 
market the materials for his contemplated feast. The next da}" 
Col. A. K. Dunklee, now secretary of internal affairs of Penn- 
sylvania, invited Capt. John C. Johnson, UOth Pennsylvania, 
and Lieutenant Fellows of the same regiment, to enjoy the 
good cheer with him. Here is the bill of fare and the cost of 
each item. 

One chicken, $12; one dozen eggs, $13; half pound of sugar, 
$4; a few potatoes, $3; one pound of butter, $12; total, $43. 

This spread was the envy of all the prisoners in Libby, and 
it was divided among them as far as it would go. Not a dozen 
officers had anything but prison fare. Col. J. M. Sanderson, 
commissary of subsistence on General Reynolds's staff, who had 
friends in Richmond, had a turkey sent to him — the only one in 
the prison. A Massachusetts officer, who had received a ham 
from home, and in cutting into it had found it stuffed with golc/ 
dollars, was also one of the fortunate ones, and had something 
that resembled a dinner in his New England home. Instances 
of this kind in this holiday dinner in Libby were not numerous, 
but they were striking. Columns might be written of the 
scenes before and after Christmas, but the plain story is the 
best. Hundreds who were there are still living, and will 

32 



484" CAMP AND FIELD. 

recaU them as though they transpired orily yesterday. The 
events of that time are indelibly engraved on their memory. 

I recall the following names as those of Nevi^ England men 
who were present: Col. Charles W. Tilden, IGth Mame; Lieut. - 
Col. C. Farnsworth, 1st Connecticut Cavalry; Lieut. -Col. G. 
C. Joslyn, 15th Massachusetts; Lieut. -Col. IvI. Nichois, 18th 
Connecticut Infantry; Maj. J. J. Edwards, 37th Massachu- 
setts; Maj. J. H. Hooper, loth Massachusetts; Maj. J. B. Hill, 
17th Massachusetts; Maj. J. Hall, 1st Vermont Cavalry; Capt. 
C. A. Adams, 1st Vermont Infantry: E. W. Atwood, 16th 
Maine; E. D. Brown, 18th Connecticut; D. Barton, 1st Massa- 
chusetts; F. B. Doten, 18th Connecticut; H. C. Davis, 18th 
Connecticut; G. C. Davis, 4th Maine; E. Dillingham, 10th 
Vermont; W. L. Hubbell, 17th Connecticut; F. R. Josselyn, 
18th Massachusetts; R. O. Ivro, 10th Massachusetts; W. F. 
Martins, 4th Massachusetts; E. J. Matthewson, 18th Connecti- 
cut; F. H. Pillsbury, 5th Maine; F. E. Wentworth, 16th 
Maine; G. W. Warner, 18th Connecticut; Lieuts. H. M. An- 
derson, 3d Maine; G. C. Bleak, 3d Maine; L. C. Bisbee, 16th 
Maine; J. D. Bisbee, 16th Maine; D. S. Bartram, 17th Connecti- 
cut; E. G. Birun, 3d Massachusetts; L. D. Comins, 17th Massa- 
chusetts; E. D. Carpenter, 18th Connecticut; H. F. Cowell, 
18th Connecticut: J. K -Childs, 16th Maine: S. E. Cary, 13th 
Massachusetts; F. C. McKeag, 18th Connecticut: R. N. Mann, 
17th Massachusetts; S. F. Merwin, 18th Connecticut; J. B. Samp- 
son, 13th Massachusetts; J. E. Woodward, 18th Connecticut; W. 
. Wadsworth, 16th Maine; D. Whiston, 13th Massachusetts; J. C. 
Norcross, 2d Massachusetts Cavalry; J. B. Stevens. 5th Maine; 
M. Tiffany, 18th Connecticut; M. Tower, ISth Massachusetts; A. 
B. Rockwell, 18th Connecticut; J. H. Russell, 12th Massachusetts; 
J. Ranny, 11th Massachusetts; N. A. Robinson. 4th Maine; A. 
J. Scranton, 18th Connecticut; J. N. Whitney. 2d Rhode Island 
Cavalry; N. A. Robbins, 4th Maine; Fuller Dinley, 17th Rhode 
Island; Capt. C. Chase, 1st Rhode Island Cavalry; Capt. Julius 
Litchfield, 4th Maine; Lieut. George A. Chandler, 5th Maine. 
The names of these officers are recalled as among those who 
spent the Christmas of 1863 in Libby Prison. There may have 
been many more. The roll was a long one, and if any name 
has been omitted, the mention of which would appeal to a New 
England heart, it has been forgotten in the mist that twenty 
years have spread over the track of war. 




Prison and Escape. 



CAMP AND FIELD 485 

Almost every state in the Union was represented in the crowd 
who spent the Christmas of 1863 in Libby Prison, New En- 
gland had a large number of her brave men there, as did 
Pennsylvania, New York, and other states. Lieutenant Rock- 
well, I hear, is dead. Engineer McCauley runs a boat on the 
Schuylkill, and you meet almost every day, on Washington street, 
men who were captured at Gettysburg and in other battles, and 
who spent months of 1863 as prisoners of war. Those who were 
not there or in other prisons can find in this story, from one 
who was a prisoner of war, a faithful picture of a Christmas 
in Libby Prison. 

Gen. B. F. Butler Originated the First Move for Raising Volunteers. 

MlIE credit of originating the first York City (now of Washington). Cap- 
uiovenient for the raising of volun- tain Rutherford issued a call for a 
teers has been awarded to General But- meeting, which was held at the Mercer 
ler, who issued a call for a meeting of House in New York, on the 9th of 
the officers of the Oth Mass. Ivegt., January — twelve days before the meet- 
to be held at Lowell, on the 2;st day of ing at Lowell — for the purpose of or- 
January, 1861 ; but the records show ganizing for the protection of the 
that the honor is justly due to Capt. United States and the enforcement of 
(General) Allen Rutherford of New the laws. 



Cavalry Charge at Bull Run. Com. Vanderbilt's Handsome Gift. 



^HE only cavalry charge made during jgOMMODORE VAND E R B I L T'S 
the second battle of Bull Run was name stands first on the list of mag- 
made by the 1st JNIich. and 4th N. Y. nificent donations to the United States 
Cavalry Regts., under the direction of government. He presented the steamer 
Gen. John Buford. Vanderbilt, which cost $800,000. 



The Last Silk Dress in the Confeder- 
.acy Made into a Balloon. 



TIP' HE last silk dress in the Confed- 
eracy was lost when the Federals 
in 1862 captured a balloon which had 
been made of all the silk dresses to be 
found in the Confederacy. Gen. James 
Longstreet said in the Century Maga- 
zine that the capture of this balloon 
was the meanest trick of the war, and 
one he has never yet foi'given. 



486 CAMP AND FIELD. 

DrivinCt Home the Cows. 

A Keiiiiniscence of the War in Verse. 

tUT of the clover and blue-eyed For news hai?! come to the lonely farm 
grass, That three were lying where two had 

He turned them into the river- lain ; 

. V 1 -1 J 

v'/ lane ; And the old man's ti'emulous, palsied 

One after another he let them pass, arm 

And fastened the bars all snug again. Could never lean on a son's again. 

Under the willows and over the hill, The summer day grew cold and late, 

He patiently followed their sober He went for the cows when the work 

trace; was done; 

The merry whistle for once was still, ^''^ ^own the lane, as he opened the 

And something shadowed the sunny 8^te, 

£ He saw them coming one by one. 

„ , , 1 1 • J! J.1 1 J • 1 Brindle, Ebonv, Speckle, and Bess, 

Only a boy: and his father had said ,^, '. , \ / . , 

bhaking their horns in the evening 



wind ; 



He never would let his youngest go ; 

Two already were lying dead, /^ • ^i i ^^ ^ r ^i 

TT , j^i J- i. r .1 J. 1- i- Cropping the buttercups out of the 

Under the feet of the trampling foe. 1 1 & i 



grass- 
But who was it following close be- 
hind ? 



But after the evening work was done. 

And the frogs were loud in the 

meadow-swamp. Loosely swung in the idle air 

0:ver his shoulder he swung his gun The empty sleeve of army blue ; 

And stealthily followed the foot-path And worn and pale, 'from the crisping 

damp. hair, 

Looked out a face that the father 

Across the clover and through the knew 

wheat. 

With resolute heart and purpose For southern pi-isons will sometimes 

grim, yawn. 

Though cold was the dew on the hur- And yield their dead unto life again, 

rying feet. And the day that comes with a cloudy 

And the blind bat's flitting startled dawn 

him. In golden glory at last may wane. 

Thrice since then had the lanes been The great tears sprung to their meeting- 
white, eyes ; 
And the orchards sweet with apple For the heart must speak when the 
l>loom ; lips are dumb, 
And now when the cows came back at And under the silent evening skies 

night. Together they followed the cattle 

The feeble father drove them home. home. 



STONEWALL'S SCABBARD. 



An Interesting Incident of the Period when General Jackson was Unknown to Fame. 

By JOHN TAYLOR. 



fiO*N\V\XX\\'V\N%.\VX\NX\\XNvX\\'V-^ 




N" the 19th of April, 1801, a portion of the battalion of 
the Virginia Military Institute stood in line to receive 
marching orders. This detachment, consisting of 165 
picked cadets, was to drill the .volunteers as they re- 
ported for duty at Camp Lee, a spot now known as the Rich- 
mond Agricultural Fair Grounds. In fact Camp Lee was used 
for that purpose prior to the war. Well does the writer (one of 
the cadets) recall the varied emotions which filled the souls of 
those gallant soldier boys, many of whom, amid the din of war, 
found soldier's graves where shot and shell fell thick and fast. 
Boys in years, yet for bravery and daring many of them gained 
fame, rank, and reputation that gray haired soldiers well might 
wish. The cadets as a whole begged their commandant an.d 
the governor to allow them to enter the war and to enroll the 
entire battalion as a part of the regular army of the Confeder- 
acy. This was refused by the authorities, as this body was the 
only organization drilled in the science of war and military 
studies in Virginia, and, as drill-masters and officers, they 
proved more valuable to the South than they could have done 
in the ranks. With faces tinged with genuine sadness, that 
portion ordered to remain at the barracks, stood at ''rest," 
while the joyful faces of those w^ho were to go, showed the 
feelings of the boys as to war. The professors one by one were 
called for by the "detail," ordered off, and each addressed the 
command with words calculated to stimulate military ardor 
and counsels as to a soldiers duty. 

From the town of Lexington, with long and rapid strides, the 
well known form of "old Jack," as the boys dubbed Major 
Jackson, then one of the faculty of the Institute, was approach- 



488 CAMP AND FIELD. 

ing. "Three cheers for Major Jackson," shouted some one. 
"Three cheers and a tiger for 'old Jack!'" yelled out many 
other youthful voices, and a " Hip I hip! hurrah! " was heartily 
given by nearly three hundred boys. Our eccentric major, 
being called on for a speech, quietly stepped to the front of the 
command, raising his faded blue cap with his right hand, and 
clasping closely under his left arm his trusty sword, which had 
flashed on many a field in the Mexican war, he cast his piercing 
eye up and down the line, then replaced his cap on his head, 
and, suiting actions to his words, said in a clear, sharp voice.- 
"Cadets, when you draw your swords throw away your scab- 
bards." Leaving the scabbard on the ground where hehadcastit, 
he wheeled, and, with his usual rapid stride, returned to Lexing.. 
ton, where he was actively engaged with the Rev. Dr. Pendle- 
ton in organizing an artillery company. An order from 
Governor Letcher, received later, caused "Stonewall Jackson" 
to change his proposed plan, and he assumed charge of the 
cadet detachment, conducting the detachment safely to Rich- 
mond, from which place he was ordered to Harper's Ferry, 
where his military genius began first to attract the attention of 
the Confederate army. 

t^Pt ^^ ^s^^^. .„.*,??.*.„. 

Brilliant Cavalry Charge at Gettysburg. 

l^AVALRY officers claim that they within sight of the other, and each in 
saved the day, at tlie most critical its proper sphere. Custer said : " I 
moment, at the battle of Gettysburg, challenge the annals of warfai'e to pro- 
Gettysburg was the only battle of the duce a more brilliant and successful 
war in which the three arms of the charge of cavalry than was made on 
service fought at the same time, the third day of the battle of Gettys- 
each within supporting distance and burg." 



Gladstone and Our Rebellion. 



^V^R. GLADSTONE said : "I do not 
believe history records a case in 
which the internal dissensions of a 
country have produced such widespread 
calamity in other nations beyond its 
borders as the American rebellion." 



THE HISTORY OF THE ALABAMA. 

BY ROSSITER JOHNSON. 



m..:m..m.:.m.: 




>HILE the Army of the Potomac was putting itself in 
fighting trim after its change of base, a decisive bat- 
tle of the war took place 4,000 miles away. A vessel 
known in the builders' yard as the " 290," and after- 
ward famous as the Alabama, had been built for the Confeder- 
ate government in 18G2, at Birkenhead, opposite Liverpool. 
She was of wood, a fast sailer, having both steam and canvas, 
320 feet long, and rated at 1,040 tons. She was thoroughly fitted 
in every respect, and cost £47,500, or somewhat less than a 
quarter of a million dollars. The American Minister at London 
notified the British government that such a ship was being 
built in an English yard, in violation of the neutrality laws, 
and demanded that she be prevented from leaving the Mersey. 
Either through design or stupidity the government moved too 
slowly, and the cruiser escaped to sea. She went to Fayal, in 
the Azores, and there took on board her guns and coal, sent out 
to her in a merchant ship from London. Her commander was 
Raphael Semmes, who had served in the United States navy. 
Her crew were mainly Englishmen. For nearly two years she 
roamed the seas, traversing the Atlantic and Indian Oceans 
and the Gulf of Mexico, and captured sixty-five American mer- 
chantmen, most of which were burned. Their crews were sent 
away on passing vessels, or put ashore at convenient ports. 
Several war vessels were sent out in search of the Alabama; 
but they were at constant disadvantage from the rule that when 
two hostile vessels are in a neutral port, the first that leaves 
must have been gone twenty-four hours before the other is per- 
mitted to follow. In French, and especially in British, ports, 
the Alabama was always welcome, and enjoyed every possible 
facility, because she was destroying American commerce. 

In June, 1864, she was in the harbor of Cherbourg, France. 
The United States man-of-war Kearsarge, commanded by John 
A. Winslow, found her there, and lay off the port, watching 



490 CAMP AND FIELD. 

for her. By not going into the harbor, Winslow escaped the 
twenty-four-hour rule. Semmes sent a note to Winslow, 
asking him not to go away, as he was coming out to fight; but 
no such challenge was called for, as the Kearsarge had come 
for that purpose, and was patiently waiting her prey. She was 
almost exactly the size of the Alabama, and the armaments 
were so nearly alike as to make a very fair match. But her 
crew were altogether superior in gun-practice, and she had 
protected her boilers by chains, "stoppered" up and down the 
side amidships, as had been done in the fights at New Or- 
leans and elsewhere. Sunday morning, June 19, the Alabama 
steamed out of the harbor amid the plaudits of thousands of 
English and Frenchmen, who had not a doubt that she was 
going to certain victory. The Kearsarge steamed away, and 
drew her off a distance of seven or eight miles from the coast. 
Winslow then turned and closed with his enemy. The two 
vessels steamed around on opposite sides of a circle half a mile 
in diameter, firing their starboard guns. One of the crew of 
the Alabama says, *' there was but little swell on, and nothing 
to prevent accurate gun-practice." Yet the practice on that 
vessel was very bad; she began firing first, discharged her guns 
rapidly, and produced little or no effect, though a dozen of her 
shots struck her antagonist. But when the Kearsarge began 
firing there was war in earnest. Her guns were handled with 
great skill, and every shot told. One of them cut the mizzen- 
mast so that it fell. Another exploded a shell among the crew 
of the Alabama's pivot gun, killing half of them and dismount- 
ing the piece. Others rolled in at the port-holes and swept 
away the gunners; and several pierced the hull below the 
water line, making the ship tremble from stem to stern, and 
letting in floods of water. The vessels had described seven 
circles, and the Alabama's decks were strewn with the dead, 
when at the end of an hour she was found to be sinking, and 
her colors were struck. The Kearsarge lowered boats to take 
off the crew; but suddenly the stern settled, the bow was 
thrown up into the air, and down went the Alabama to the bot- 
tom of the British Channel, carrying an unknown number of 
her crew. An English yacht picked up Semmes and about 
forty of his men, and steamed away to Southampton with them; 
others were rescued by the boats of the Kearsarge, and still 
others were drowned. 



CAMP AM) FlKIi; 



491 



Eight years afterward, an international court of arbitration 
decreed that the British government must pay the United 
States $15,500,000 for damages done to American commerce by 
the Alabama and two or three similar cruisers, because they 
were built in English yards and escaped to sea through the 
negligence of that government. The sentence was very light; 
for that sum falls far short of the damage wrought to us and the 
corresponding gain to the English carrying trade. 



'» . — - a. 



m:B 



'ii<3 r~<~f c. 



HEROISM AND CHIVALRY AT FREDERICKSBURG. 



TOO BRAVE TO BE SHOT. 



IHjHE following incident oc- 
3 curred at the battle of 
Fredericksburg. On the 15tli 
day of December, 1862, the 
IGth Regt. and three com- 
panies of the second bat- 
talion of Featherstone's Mis- 
sissippi brigade were posted at 
the foot of Marye's Heights, to 
the left of the plank road lead- 
ing from the city tow^ard 
Orange Court House. Between 
them and the city was a tan- 
yard and many outbuildings. 
Much sharpshooting was in- 
dulged in on both sides, oppor- 
tunities being afforded us by 
squads of Federals, who in 
twos or threes kept moving 
rapidly from behind extempo- 
rized shelters to their rear, 
posted in the city limits proper. 
While a squad of these were 
braving shots, one of them 



was seen to drop, while all his 
companions but one, taking 
advantage of our empty rifles, 
soon got to cover behind the 
houses. This brave fellow see- 
ing his comrade fall, deliber- 
ately faced about, and, drop- 
ping his rifle, assisted his 
friend to rise, and together 
they slowly sought the rear. 
As they moved off a score or 
more of rifles were leveled 
with deadly intent, but before 
a single one of them could be 
fired our colonel, Carnot Posey, . 
commanded, " Cease firing; 
that man is too brave to be 
killed," and then, with ad- 
miration for the brave fellow, 
we gave him a hearty cheer, 
to which he replied by a grace- 
ful wave of his cap as he and 
his comrade passed behind the 
protection of an outbuilding. 



Imeldemts ©f ^eFieraf See, jaeSgOFi, 

AND 

GENERAL WILSON'S FAMOUS HORSE, ''SLASHER." 

By Maj. R. H. BIGGER, Hendersonville, N. C. 



ii5)VERY one in General 
W Early's command knew 
"Slasher." They will rec- 
ollect with what nimbleness 
and cat-like treads he carried 
his master, Col. Daniel Wil- 
son of the 6th La., through 
all the difficult passes and 
ways. Colonel Wilson was 
six feet four in his stockings 
and weighed three hundred 
pounds; according to the esti- 
mate of his regiment he would 
pull down a full thousand. It 
happened on a certain Sunday 
as Colonel Wilson was taking 
"Slasher" at a lively pace 
along a smooth Virginia road 
that he met General Stone- 
wall Jackson on his way to 
"preaching." After passing 
the usual compliments of the 
day, General Jackson said, 
"If it were not Sunday, col- 
onel, and if you were disposed, 
to sell ' Slasher,' what would 
be your price for him?" Col- 
onel Wilson replied, " Well, 
general, if it were not Sunday, 
I might answer your question; 
but being Sunday, you will al- 
low me to postpone the answer 
to some future day of the week. " 



" Certainly," said Jackson, and 
rode on with his hat close 
down over his eyes, and his 
long, ungainly legs dangling 
limberly at his horse's side. 
The boys used to say that 
" Slasher " could jump over a 
church. 

"Slasher" was standing on 
one occasion hitched near the 
tent of Colonel Wilson, with 
his muscles, sinewy propor- 
tions and sleek side showing 
to great advantage in a bright 
morning sun, when General 
Lee approached Colonel Wil- 
son and passing salute said: 
" Colonel, in this world they 
say there is nothing perfect, 
but will you have the kindness 
to point out the defects in your 
horse?" "Yes, general, they 
are very broad and distressing, 
and they are the cause of the 
dejected manner which you 
have observed in me of late. 
When I ride ' Slasher ' at the 
head of tlie regiment through 
villages and towns, everybody 
cries out, ' Oh, what a magnifi- 
cent horse! ' They never say, 
' What a handsome, noble look- 
ins: officer.' " 



--^ O L D ^ A B E,^^ 

THE VETERAN WAR EAGLE OF WISCONSIN. 



The Gallant Bird that Braved Many a Battle with the 8th Wisconsin Regt. 

By W. C. KI>fG, Springfield, Mass. 




|H0 of our readers has 
not heard of "Old 
Abe," the famous 
war eagle, who so nobly did so 
much in the late war, in cheer- 
ing on our brave boys to vic- 
tory? 

"Old Abe "was a native of 
Lake Superior, and when quite 
young was taken from his nest, 
in July, 1861, by a little wild 
Indian boy by the name of 
0-ge-mah-we-ge-zhig, whose 
habitation was in the wilds of 
upper Wisconsin. 

The Indian children gave 
him the name of "Mee-Ke- 
zeen-ce" (Little Eagle). In the 
fall of the same year a farmer 
induced the little Indians to 
part with their pet in exchange 
for a bushel of corn. The bird 
had been in his new home but 
a short time when he declared 
war with all the domestic ani- 




mals about the place, and the 
farmer was obliged to coop 
"Abe " in order to preserve 
peace. 

While deliberating as to what 
disposition to make of the un- 
welcome family accession the 



494 CAMP AND FIELD. 

idea occurred to the old farmer that the eagle should go to 
war. Acting on this idea he took him to Eau Claire and sold 
him. Shortly after the purchaser presented him to Co. C, 8th 
Wis. Vols., who made a standard for him upon which he was 
carried by the side of the regimental colors. For three long, 
hard, eventful years "Old Abe" was a comrade of that regi- 
ment, doing noble service in his way. He accompanied the 
regiment in all its marches, and took a lively interest in all of 
its battles. When the army was enveloped in smoke "Old 
Abe " manifested great delight. At such a time he was always 
to be found at the head of Co. C. When the storm of battle 
was raging fiercely and the air was dense with smoke, this 
noble bird would spread his pinions, jump up and down on his 
perch, utter such wild and unearthly screams as only an eagle can 
utter. The more terrific the battle, the fiercer the screams. A 
rebel soldier, brother of a noted guerrilla chief, visiting Madison 
in 1875. informed George W. Baker, one of the eagle's attend- 
ants, that, while in the Southern service, during one of the 
battles, he heard a rebel general say, "I rather capture 'Old 
Abe ' than a whole brigade." 

During a lull in the battle, as the enemy was preparing again 
to fire from the brow of the hill, distant not over thirty rods 
from the Sth Regt.,the eagle being exposed in plain sight of the 
rebels, a Confederate officer was heard by several in Company 
C to say, "There he is — the eagle — capture him, boysl" No 
sooner was this command given, tnan the rebel artillery opened 
upon our forces, under whose cover a column, just discerned in 
the gathering smoke, moved briskly over the crest to break 
and scatter our steady front, and capture the prize. All this 
while, the eagle scanned with fire-lit eye every movement on 
that hill, and as the rebel infantry hove clearly in sight, it is 
said, he whistled a startling note of alarm, and instantly both 
armies struck each other in deafening shock, commingling with 
the boom and crash of cannon that trembled forest and valley. 
Shouts from both sides rent the air, while death mowed his 
swath clear through both armies, and yet the bloody gaps closed 
up again and again. Such is war! In the general conflict, the 
eagle leaped up with a desperate spring, breaking his cord or 
else it was cut by a minie ball, and was seen by the com- 
batants, circling, careering in the sulphurous smoke. The 
enemy pressed nearer, exultant, as if sure of their prize; the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 495 

bullets flew as hailstones; there was a wavering of a wing — 
was he hit? — but the war bird rallied again, and, as he rose 
higher, many a rebel shot went up to bring down the American 
eagle. Yet on he sped, towering above that awful din, scream- 
ing back to his assailants, eying the battle from his sky-eyrie, 
when, catching a glimmer of his comrades in the fight and the 
colors where his bearer stood gazing upward with suspense — as 
if inspired by the very Roman gods — he descended, like a 
" bolt of Jove," to the left of his regiment, where McLane, 
flying after him, easily caught him up in his arms, trembling 
and panting with ardor, and whistling with his peculiar air of 
satisfaction. By permission, his bearer immediately carried 
him cautiously from the field to the camp, where he remained 
till the close of the next day of battle, which ended in a 
Federal victory, purchased at a dear cost. On examination, it 
was found that the eagle was hit by a rebel bullet in the 
feathers of a wing near the flesh. 

Col. J. W. Jefferson, who led the valiant 8th in the Red River 
expedition, thus happily describes the eagle on parade and in 
battle: — 

" 'Old Abe' was with the command in nearly every action 
(about twenty-two), and in thirty skirmishes. He enjoyed the 
excitement: and I am convinced, from his peculiar manner, he 
was well informed in regard to army movements, dress parade, 
and preparations for the march and battle. Upon parade, after 
he had been a year in the service, he always gave heed to ' At- 
tention!' With his head obliquely to the front, his right eye 
directly turned upon the parade commander, he would listen 
and obey orders, noting time accurately. After parade had 
been dismissed, and the ranks were being closed by the ser- 
geants, he would lay aside his soldierly manner, flap his wings, 
and make himself generally at home. When there was an 
order to form for battle, he and the colors were first upon the 
line. His actions upon those occasions were uneasy, turning 
his head anxiously from right to left to see when the line was 
completed. Soon as the regiment got ready, faced, and was 
put in march, he would assume a steady and quiet demeanor. 
In battle he was almost constantly flapping his wings, having 
his mouth wide open, and many a time would scream with 
wild enthusiasm. This was particularly so at the hard fought 
battle of Corinth, when our regiment repulsed and charged, or, 



496 CAMP AND FIELD 

you might say, made a counter charge, on Price's famous Mo. 
brigade." 

Thus the Wisconsin war eagle became the most famous bird 
that ever fanned the breeze of heaven. 

He came out of the war known as the " Eagle Veteran" of 
the great Rebellion, with eye unblenched, with fearless and un- 
tiring wing, with talons still grasping the lightnings of battle, 
he came home to rest, crowned with the highest honor, revered 
and loved by all. 

Oft had he by example cheered the desponding, roused am- 
bition, and encouraged sacrifices. He had enlivened the dull 
hours of camp life, and during the thickest of the fight ho 
would stand aloft with unfurled pinions, and with a wild, terri- 
ble shriek, lead the deadly charge to victory. Under the 
national colors, tattered and torn, yet blazing with the stars he 
loved, this " Bird of the Union " taught, by his spirit and exam- 
ple, the true art of conquest. After his brave and noble career 
in field and camp with the 8th. he was formally presented to 
the state of Wisconsin, and assigned quarters in the State 
House at .Madison, where he was called upon by thousands of 
people eager to gaze upon such a grand specimen of the feath- 
ered tribe. 

Not only was "Old Abe" of great service on the field of 
battle, but he was the means of raising thousands of dollars 
for the benefit of needy soldiers, their widows, and orphans. 

When the great sanitary fair was held at Chicago, Alfred 
Sewell had a beautiful little likeness made of the brave bird and 
organized a corps of patriotic boys and girls throughout the 
Union to sell them. This juvenile army numbered nearly 
12,000 loyal children, and through their active effort the snug 
sum of $16,000 was turned over by Mr. Sewell to the committee 
of the fair. 

At the Centennial "Old Abe" was the object of great inter- 
est and admiration of the masses who continually crowded 
about his perch. No bird in the history of the world ever 
gained such an enviable reputation or was so loved by a nation, 
and when in 18 — the news was spread throughout the land that 
"Old Abe" was dead, thousands of hearts were caused to 
sorrow. 

' l > :: < \ ' 



SOLDIERS' LETTERS. 



THE ARMY POST OFFICE AT PORT ROYAL, S. Q 



Reminiscences of the Civil Service at the Front During the War. 
How Soldiers' Letters and Papers Were Mailed and Distributed. 

By H. I'ORTEK liYEB, Sprhty field, Mass. 

1©— 3*1— «r 




[HE volunteer army that fought through the War of 
llll' the Rebellion was a reading and writing army. No 
other army ever equaled it in this respect. The men 
had scarcely left their homes for the field before the 
idear home folks began to follow them with letters, news- 
papers, books, and all descriptions of reading matter, and 
at every opportunity on their route and all through the long 
four years of fighting, the soldiers dropped the sword and took 
up the pen with their tales of labors, dangers, and sufferings. 
In many an old trunk and chest, to-day, are stored away pre- 
cious packets of letters that in their day bore sad burdens of 
grief or precious freights of consolation from the soldier boy to 
his mother. Many others are the only relics of lives sacrificed 
for the country, containing the words and thoughts, and to a 
great extent the personality of men whose monument in some 
national cemetery is marked "unknown." 

The departure of thousands of home-loving men to the front 
thus threw a tremendous burden of work upon the post 
office department. The government at once recognized that the 
postal service should become a means of moral support to the 
army, and no restrictions were placed upon frequent and un- 
limited communication by mail between the camp and the 
home. The service was greatly enlarged and extended to the 
army wherever that was practicable, red tape was cut merci- 
lessly and the mails were hustled about, oftentimes regardless 
of regulations, the only desideratum being to " get there." 



498 CAMP AND FIELD. 

In the summer of 1863, after having been in the government 
service for a year as superintendent of abandoned plantations 
and "contrabands," near Beaufoit, S. C, I was appointed 
assistant postmaster of the Port Royal post office, on the Island 
of Hilton Head, S. C. This was the general distributing office 
for the Department of the South, which included all the army 
posts in South Carolina, Georgia, and Eastern Florida. The 
number of troops in the department was about 10,000, but that 
number was doubled at one time, when the attack upon 
Charleston was in preparation. In addition, there were 
many civilians in the department, for Hilton Head became for 
the time being a lively place for business, and Beaufort, for- 
merly, as now, one of the finest watering places on the South- 
east coast, was the headquarters of an interesting movement 
for the benefit of the colored people. Under General Rufus 
Saxton, the military governor of South Carolina, as he was 
officially titled, were employed a large number of civilians, 
men and women, who were distributed about the plantations, 
teaching schools, helping the colored people to care for them- 
selves, and generally trying to lift them out of the darkness 
and ignorance and indolence in which slavery left them, into 
something like civilization. The Port Ro^^al post office also 
received and distributed the mails for the South Atlantic 
naval squadron, which blockaded the coast from Charleston 
to lower Florida, and cruised between the Bermudas and the 
Bahamas. 

Hilton Head was the headquarters of the 10th Army Corps. 
The government had built a long, substantial wharf from the 
low, sandy shore, to deep water, where ocean steamships could 
lie and discharge their freight. From this wharf railroad 
tracks radiated in various directions to the army store-houses, 
ordnance stores, forage sheds, etc., which covered nearh^ a 
square mile of territory. Along the beach were built the 
quarters of the officers, not palatial residences by any means, 
but plain, whitewashed wooden buildings, designed for comfort 
and convenience, rather than luxury. On the shore was also 
the department hospital, a very large building or collection of 
buildings, open to the fresh sea breezes and supplied with all 
the comforts and conveniences that' could be affi^rded in the 
army. Near the head of the government wharf was an old 
mansion, once the residence of the planter who cultivated the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 499 

acres then occupied by the army buildings. This house was 
used for army offices, custom house, and signal station. From a 
tower on the roof of the building the signal corps communi- 
cated with various posts in the department by signal flags. Il 
the rear of this building across a square, once a garden, but 
then a desert of sand and dust, were a number of buildings 
•occupied by Adams' Express, a printing office, one or two 
.sutlers' stores, and the Port Royal post office. The government 
had not spent a fortune in housing the postal department at 
Hilton Head. Its quarters were an old cotton shed, one story in 
height, with a commodious garret. At the time I entered the 
postal service, the business had become so large that the build- 
ing was wholly inadequate for the work. The postal depart- 
ment could not be induced to furnish better quarters, but the 
quartermaster general of the department came to our relief, 
detailed a number of soldiers who were carpenters, gave us 
some lumber, and we set to work to enlarge the premises. My 
first few nights in the post office were spent upon a luxurious 
couch, composed of mail bags spread upon the mailing table. 
But the army authorities were good to us and gave me an A 
tent with a board floor, and made me a bunk. The tent was 
pitched in the yard, back of the post office, and there I spent 
the nights for two or three months in comparative comfort, 
except when the Hilton Head real estate took the wings of the 
wind and half buried me in the bunk. After the renovation of 
the post office, the postmaster and I had luxurious quarters in 
the garret, with a door opening upon the top of a piazza, and 
two dormer windows to admit the sea breezes. The force in 
the office ordinarily consisted of the postmaster, assistant post- 
master, book-keeper, two detailed soldiers and a colored porter 
This was force enough for seven days out of eight, but on the 
eighth day, when the mails arrived from the North, we had 
volunteer assistance according to our needs. Several of the 
army chaplains who took charge of their regimental mail, a 
sergeant of the First Massachusetts cavalry, and other soldiers 
were always on hand to help us in a rush. We had no red 
tape about us, and required no bonds of those who assisted us 
in distributing the mails. Oftentimes we were so crowded 
with help that we stood elbow to elbow, with scarcely room to 
turn around. The arrangements were primitive and rough, 
but the work was done and that was all we cared for. 



500 CAMP AND FIELD. 

TLe regular service in the department was pretty well organ- 
ized. Steamers ran daily to Beaufort, Folby and James 
Islands, and mails were forwarded when there was anything 
to forward. Steamers ran regularly to Fort Pulaski, Ga., and 
to Fernandina, Jacksonville, and St. Augustine, Fla., and there 
was always more or less army mail, dispatches, etc., to be for- 
warded. This, however, was easy work, and the interim 
between the Northern mails had to be filled in with a good deal 
of loafing. 

But every eight days, with pretty fair regularity, came 
either the Fulton or Arago, ocean steamships, formerly of the 
French line between New York and Havre, bringing the mails 
from New York. Then there was work enough to atone for 
all the leisure. The week's mail sometimes weighed two or 
three tons, and was brought from the steamer in forage 
wagons. The letter bags were first attacked. In those days, 
letters mailed from distributing post oflices, were assorted in 
packages of 100, wrapped in brown paper, and tied with 
strings. The post office department had an economical streak 
in the use of wrapping paper and string, and we had to waste 
some time in opening the packages. The colored man straight- 
ened out the wrappers and corraled the twine for future use. 
The letters were arranged upon a large table, in rows of thou- 
sands, from which the sorters took them and distributed them 
into bags, every regiment, or separate company, or battalion, 
and every naval vessel having its own bag, while boxes were 
provided for headquarters, and for various army departments. 
In the "general delivery" were about 300 private boxes and 
all letters not distinctly marked for regiments, etc., went to 
the general delivery. 

It never required less than ten or twelve hours of very hard and 
steady work for eight or ten men to distribute the eight days' mail 
and forward it to its destination. We always grew very tired, 
and sometimes " cross" and " sassy." General and regimental 
officers at first sent orderlies for their letters, and often delayed 
us in the distribution. So we made a rule to deliver no mail 
to anybody till the whole letter mail was distributed, except to 
those who had lock boxes and could help themselves. This 
sometimes caused bad language on the part of the army officers, 
but it came to be understood, finally, that Uncle Sam's post- 
master was as big a man on his ranche as a commanding general. 



CAMF AND FIT^LD 5 01 

In distribution we became pretty expert. We had to be. If 
letters went to the wrong regiment we were sure to hear com- 
plaints. Soldiers wanted their letters right off. Those who 
were detailed away from their regiments wanted their letters 
kept out of the regimental mail and sent direct to them. 
Officers were here one week and there another, and we kept the 
run of them. The consequence was that the post office man was a 
general walking directory of the department, and we were often 
better able to direct letters correctly than the people who wrote 
them. When troops were transferred to other departments, as 
to Virginia or North Carolina, we forwarded their letters as 
promptly as possible. Once we had a large quantity of mail 
for regiments that we knew nothing of, which should have 
gone to Kentucky or Tennessee. Frequently, letters came for 
nrien in regiments, supposed to be in South Carolina, but which 
we knew to be in Louisiana or Missouri. 

On several occasions while I was in the Port Royal post 
office, the steamers were taken off by the government for other 
service, temporarily, and we waited from twelve to fourteen 
days for the mails. When they did arrive there was a grand 
wrestle, of course. The hardest job we ever had, and the hardest 
work I ever did, was when the government took our steamships 
for the North Carolina expedition and delayed our mail for 
nearly three weeks. Day after day we waited, with no idea of 
what was going on at the North, except through reports 
received from rebel sources and which we knew not whether to 
believe or not. At last the steamer was sighted coming over 
the bar, and all Hilton Head was alive with excitement. The 
mail reached the office about sundown. It filled a room fifteen 
feet square and twelve feet high, packed solidly to the top. 
We worked with full force upon that mail two nights and a 
day, without pause, except for hurried meals, one at a time, and 
to make room, we had to send off every few hours as we could, 
whatever we had distributed. 

In addition to the letter mail, to which we always devoted 
first and closest attention, the newspaper mail was almost 
limitless. The New York and Boston daily newspapers came in 
great bundles, local newspapers all over the country had thou- 
sands of subscribers in the army, while transient papers, nov- 
els, books, and packages of every description came in a flood. 
These we knew were prized only second to the letters, and while 



502 CAMP AND FIELD. 

we were not as careful in the distribution as in the case of the let- 
ters, they generally went to their destination with accuracy. 
We did not, however, remail the niissent newspapers, except 
the transient stamped papers, and always had more or less 
newspapers for our own leisurely reading, or for sending to the 
hospitals, picket posts, etc. In those days there was no pack- 
age post as to-day. In fact, it was improper to send certain 
articles through the newspaper mail. But we couldn't be too 
scrupulous. There was no time to examine suspicious packages, 
and many a soldier received articles through the mail that 
should have been forwarded under letter postage or by express, 
such as articles of clothing, handkerchiefs, caps, packages of 
eatables, bottles of medicine and hair oil, boxes of salve and 
pills, perfumery, etc. Sometimes the office would be so scented 
with some strange medicinal or toilet article as to drive us to 
the door or window for breath. 

The registered mail was at times quite large and gave us a 
good deal of trouble. The articles could be delivered only to 
the person addressed or to his order, and he had to be notified. 
This registered mail was very largely the result of thinly 
veiled lotteries, gift enterprises, etc., into which the soldiers 
were inveigled by floods of circulars and advertisements. The 
packages contained watches, jewelry, and all sorts of articles 
of supposed, but often of fictitious value, but they had to be 
delivered, "unsight, unseen." The registered mail sent North 
was also large, especially after pay day, when the soldiers sent 
home their money for safe keeping, or to help the old folks. 

After the mail from the North was distributed, we were busy 
until the steamer sailed, with our outgoing mail. This had 
accumulated through the week between mails, and was made 
ready for shipment as fast as it came in. But sometimes sev- 
eral regiments would send in their mails a short time before 
the sailing of the steamer, and it required very lively work to get 
them postmarked, and wrapped, and directed to the proper dis- 
tributing offices at the North in season for the departure of the 
steamer. This done, the mail off, and we took a week for rest. 

In this interim I often served at the general delivery, where 
there was a fair chance to practice patience and good nature. 
There was one old soldier on duty at the hospital who used to 
come nearly every day and ask if there was a letter for him. 
I could tell him no, without looking, but he would insist on 



CAMP AND FIEl.D. 



503 



my looking over the letters for him. Then he would say 
almost invariably: " Wal, I didn't hardly expect one, but 
thought I'd jest roll round and see.'" The colored people, who were 
numerous about Hilton Head and had already begun to reap the 
benefits of education, were good patrons of the post office. I 
had to be well versed in hieroglyphics to decipher the addresses 
of their letters, and was often asked to read the contents for 
the benefit of the recipient. In this way I became a repository 
of some tender colored secrets, and had a good deal of amuse- 
ment out of the singular correspondence which was conducted 
upon epistolary principles, often quite unique. Sometimes I 
acted as amanuensis for these colored lovers, and was a good 
deal puzzled to express myself in a way that would appear ver- 
nacular to the person to whom the letter was addressed. Once, 
two young negroes came into the vestibule of the office, one the 
pilot of the other, who had a letter to mail. Looking at the 
sign over the letterbox, the pilot spelled, " L-e-t-t-e-r, tar, b-o-x, 
box, Tarbox, — oh, yas, dat's him," — then stepping to the delivery 
he asked, ''Is Mass' Tarbox in de pos' off us?" I told him I 
didn't know Mr. Tarbox. He looked puzzled, and glanced at 
the sign again and said: " Ain' dat de name on de do' plate, 
Massa?" 



HOW M'CLELLAN WAS LOVED. 

JOHN W. MAHAN. 



|0 man ever lived who was more 
dear to the hearts of his soldiers. 
The scene that took place when 
McClellan, accompanied by General 
Burnside, his successor, rode along tlie 
line of encampments to take farewell 
of his comrades, will never fade from 
the memory of those who witnessed it. 
The troops were not formed, but l)y a 
common impulse, from generals to 



drummer boys, rushed to the roadside 
and cheei'ed amid their tears, and cried 
out : " Oh, come back, ' Little Mac ' ! 
come back ! " General Lee, four miles 
away, believed an attack was imminent, 
and prepared for it, but the army was 
marched to the vicinity of Falmouth, 
and about a month later was dashed 
against St. Marye's Heights, in rear of 
Fredericksburg. 



'"^. 



^^1^^®=^=^' 



504 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



Thk Old Cantkhn 




BY G. M. WHITE. 



tEND it up to the garret ? Well, no, 
what's the harm 
^-F If it hangs like a horseshoe to 
serve as a chann ? 
Had its day, to be sure ; matches ill with 

things here ; 
Shall I sack the old thing just because 

it is queer V 
Thing of beauty 'tis not, but a joy none 

the less, 
As my hot lips remember its old time 

caress, 
And I think of the solace once gurgling 

between 
My lips from that old battered tin can- 
teen. 



It has hung by my side in the long, 

weary tianip, 
Been my friend in the bivouac, barrack, 

and camp, 
fn tlie triumph, the capture, advance, 

and retreat, 
Moie than light to my path, more than 

guide to my feet. 
Sweeter nectar ne'er flowed, howe'er 

sparkliug and cold, 
From out chalice of silver or goblet of 

gold, 



For a king or an emperor, princess or 

queen. 
Than to nie from the mouth of that old 

canteen. 

It has cheered the desponding on many 

a night. 
Till their laughing eyes gleamed in the 

canq3 fire light. 
Whether guns stood in silence, or 

boomed at short range. 
It was always on duty, though 'twould 

not be strange 
If in somnolent period just after 

" taps " 
Some colonel or captain, disturbed at 

his naps. 
May have felt a suspicion that " spirits " 

unseen 
Had somehow bedeviled that old can- 
teen. 

But I think on the time when in lulls of 

the strife 
It has called the far look in dim eyes 

back to life. 
Helped to staunch the quick blood just 

beginning to pour. 
Softened broad, gaping wounds that 

were stiffened and sore. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



505 



Moistened thin, livid lips, so despairing 'Twas as easy his passion from war to 

of breath weau 

They could only speak thanks in the As his mouth from the lips of the old 

quiver of death ; canteen. 

If an angel of mercy ever hovered 

, , By and by, when all hate for the rasrs 

between " ■ i 'i , 

,„, . , , 1,1 . .0. 1.1 11 with the bars 

This world and the next twas the old . , ^ , 

, Is toi-sotten in love for the " stripes and 

canteen. , „ ^ 

the stars ; 

When Columbia rules everything solid 

Then banish it not as a profitless and sole, 

thing, From her own ship canal to the ice at 

Were it hung in a palace it well might the pole ; 

swing. When the Grand Army men have obeyed 

To tell in its mute, allegorical way the last call, 

How the citizen volunteer won the And the Mayflowers and violets bloom 

day , for us all ; 

How he bravely, unflinchingly, grandly Then away in some garret the cobwebs 

won, may screen 

And how, when the death-dealing work My battered, old, cloth-covered tin can- 
was done, teen. 



<-^ 



BEAUREGARD'S PULSE IN BATTLE. 

[Sorth American Review.] 

^^N a private note accompanying the 
i^l second part of his article on the 
^campaign of Shiloh, General Beau- 
regard records this interesting fact ; — 

"Just before mounting (on the morn- 
ing of the second day's fight) it occurred 
to me to ascertain the pulsations of the 
human system in the excitement of 
going into battle. I requested my medi- 
cal director, Dr. Brodie, to examine the 
pulses of myself and staff. He found 
that thev varied from 90 to 1-30." 



A Joke in the Thick of Battle. 



X old tar-heel who 



thar " 



ta^M ±N oiu tar-neei wno was 
1^1^ says that at the battle of Chan- 
el cellorsville, while the fight was 
raging General Rhodes rode up to Gen- 
eral Ramseur and asked him what time 
it was. Ramseur, pulling out his old 
timepiece slowly, said : 

"General, in such an emergency as 
this my old watch never runs." 

Rhodes " took" right off and returned 
to where the bullets were " ticking " the 
seconds. 




THE BliTTLE OE HILOR'J mi 

Vivid Battle Pictures and Hand-to-Hand Conflict. 

COL. ARCHIE-f^LD MOPKINS. 37th Nlass. Vols. 



|N the 2d of April, 18G4, we 
had been in the front line 
of the assaulting column 
at Petersburg. On the 3d, 4th, 
and 5th, our corps having been 
attached to General Sheridan's 
command by his special re- 
quest, we were making forced 
marches, keeping up with the 
cavalry in that relentless pur- 
suit, which was the secret of 
final success. The weather 
had grown very warm for the 
season, and, after the first halt, 
the ground for acres was cov- 
ered with overcoats, extra 
blankets, and clothing, and 
various little comforts which 
even the oldest soldiers some- 
times begin a campaign with, 
but which are gradually ' dis- 
carded till only the barest nec- 
essaries remain. On the Gth 
we had already covered twenty 




miles, when about 2 P. m. rapid 
artillery firing was heard, and 
an order to double-quick told 
us that there was work ahead. 
There followed a hard three 
miles run, the men dripping 
and panting under their loads, 
but determined to be in at the 
death, for every one felt the end 
was at hand. 



CAMP AXD FIELD. 507 

At the first sound of the artillery the men began without 
orders to fill the magazines of their Spencer rifles as they moved 
along. The Spencer, at that time, was by far the best weapon 
in use, not so heavy as the Springfield, and surpassing it in 
range and precision. 

At the top of the slope in a field to the left of the road, near 
an old barn, Sheridan sat on his black horse, talking to Wright, 
and I saw him make a gesture with his palms turned to the 
front that said unmistakably whatever opposed us on the hill 
opposite was to be pushed out of the way. As the men recog- 
nized Sheridan a rattling cheer went down the line, for every 
man implicitly trusted his splendid leadership. 

His cavalry had cut off the principal wagon train of Lee's 
army, and Stonewall Jackson's corps, now commanded by Ewell, 
had been put in position to check our pursuit and save the train. 
General Kershaw was on the right of their line, Custis Lee on 
the left, and the naval battalion of picked men from the gun- 
boats at Richmond, was in the rear of Lee's right, in reserve. 

After crossing the creek, which was barely fordable, the line 
was reformed, and the regiment moved by the flank a short dis- 
tance to the right, and then the order was brought to charge up 
the hill. The growth of young pines was so dense that it was 
impossible to tell whether our connection on the right or left 
was maintained. 

We were now moving steadily up the hill, and bullets began 
to fly plentifully. Instinctively we felt that a few steps more 
would precipitate a bloody fight, but the line did not waver nor 
was there any flinching or skulking. As we rose the crest, a 
crashing volley from an invisible enemy tore through the pines 
over our heads. The misdirected aim was most fortunate for 
us. Before the enemy could reload we were close upon them. 
At the word every man poured in seven shots from his Spencer, 
at easy speaking distance and with deadly effect. Large num- 
bers fell killed and wounded, many came in and gave them- 
selves up, some escaped, and all semblance of organization or 
opposition melted away from our front and disappeared. 
Flushed with success we moved steadily to the front a distance 
of probably three hundred yards; when the growth becoming 
less dense it appeared that we had no support on either flank. 
At this juncture Custis Lee moved the naval battalion through 
one of the deep gulches around our right, and about half the 



508 CAMP AND FIELD. 

length of the regiment in our rear. We discovered the move- 
ment just in time to face about, and in a moment it was hand 
to hand, and a brief, fierce struggle ensued with musketry at 
arm's length, officers fighting with clubbed muskets and pistols 
and the bayonet coming into free use for the first time in our 
experience. Clouds of sulphurous smoke obscured everything 
not close at hand, and it was as these opened and shifted that 
I had glimpses of battle groups and scenes which will always 
remain in my memory. One, just a momentary* glimpse, seen 
and lost too soon to know the result, of a powerful officer in 
gray with clubbed musket raised to strike down Captain Chand- 
ley, who had a Spencer rifle and was cocking it to fire. An- 
other of a flaming rebel battle-flag planted in the ground a few 
feet away, the center of a desperate struggle; a blue-coated 
sergeant seized it only to fall desperately wounded beneath its 
folds, when a plucky little fellow whom I recognized through 
the smoke as Private Taggart, of Co. B, wrested it from its hold 
and carried it safe to the rear. The battle was now at its height; 
blue and gray mingled in a confused mass, swayed back and 
forth in the eddying smoke, and fierce cries of "Down with 
'em," "Give 'em h — 1," and the clashing of crossed bayonets 
could be heard rising above the sound of the musketry. In- 
tense excitement swallowed up all sense of danger and every 
man fought almost with savage fury. Meanwhile our Spencers 
had again given us the advantage, and the enemy, broken into 
confused groups, were driven back into the ravine in a huddled 
mass. We gathered at its mouth and gave them such a ter- 
rible raking fire that they soon began to show white handker- 
chiefs in token of surrender, and our firing ceased. 

The adjutant, John S, Bradley, of Lee, demanded the sword 
of a rebel officer near whom he was standing, when the officer, 
without a word, put his pistol to the adjutant's breast. He saw 
the movement just in time to knock his hand aside, when they 
grappled and rolled down into the ravine, the officer discharging 
his pistol into the adjutant's shoulder as they went. A rebel 
soldier also shot him through the thigh, and in an instant more 
his antagonist would have dispatched him with another shot, 
when Private Eddy, of Co, B, who had been watching his 
chance, as Bradley's assailant came uppermost, shot him dead. 
Eddy had hardly fired when a powerful grayback thrust him 
through with a bayonet, the point coming out near his spine, 



CAMP AND FIELD. 509 

and he was pinned to the ground. His antagonist then tried to 
wrest his Spencer from him, but he chmg to it desperately and 
finally succeeded in firing a shot which was fatal to his enemy. 
The rebel fell upon him, but Eddy thrust his body aside, pulled 
out the bayonet which transfixed him, and staggered to the rear, 
where he was cared for, and he finally recovered. After this 
we opened fire again with deadly effect and they gave up this 
time in earnest. Seventy dead were taken from the ravine. 
During the fight a corporal, who was noted for his quiet 
promptitude and unvarying good behavior, found himself con- 
fronted by a rebel officer whose surrender he demanded. The 
officer refused, and the corporal fired, shooting him through the 
body. As he fell the corporal bent over and told him that he 
was sorry he had to shoot him, and that he was a Christian, and 
if he wished he would pray with him. The officer eagerly as- 
sented and the corporal knelt amidst the drifting smoke and 
flying missiles and the shouts and groans of the combatants, and 
offered a fervent prayer for the soul of his dying foeman. When 
he had finished they shook hands and the officer gave the cor- 
poral his sword as a memento, and asked him to write to his 
wife what had befallen him. 

An Irish corporal, whose brother had been killed on the para- 
pet in the assault on Petersburg a few days before, concealed 
himself in a thicket and killed nine rebels during the fight. 
When it was over he said he didn't know as it would help 
poor Mike any, but somehow he felt "aisyer about the heart." 

It was past three o'clock when we struck the enemy, and as 
the shadows fell, and the evening breeze rose and sighed a 
requiem through the swaying pines, all sounds of conflict died 
away, and we made our bivouac close at hand. It had been a 
glorious victory all along the line, resulting in a loss to Lee's 
crumbling and disrupted army of about 8,000. Three days later 
came Lee's surrender, and the campaigns of the Army of the 
Potomac were ended. 




CAMP FORD PRISON. 



CRUELTY, STARVATION AND EXPOSURE BEYOND ENDURANCE. 



EXPERIENCE OF DANA W. KING, NASHUA, N. H. 




» l< - 



ONG will live the memory of Camp Ford. 
jK This prison was a stockade, covering about 
seven acres of ground, on a sunny slope 
not far from Tyler, Texas. At the south- 
east corner of the inclosure was a spring- 
strongly impregnated with sulphur, but its 
supply of water was sadly inadequate for the 4,000 men con- 
fined there during 18G4. There was hardly enough for cooking 
and drinking, and to secure this men would have to stand in 
the hot sun, shoeless, hatless, and shirtless, awaiting an oppor- 
tunity to fill their gourds. Washing pey se was sadly neglected. 
Within fifty feet of the outside of the stockade was a much 
larger spring, but this was reserved for the rebel guards. 
Booths of brush were constructed by some, and a few of the 
earlier comers were fortunate enough to get a few logs with 
which to build a cover, but by far the larger number had holes 
in the ground or no shelter at all. The men dropped themselves 
into the holes, feet first, and, during the winter, obtained par- 
tial protection from the bleak winds; but when a northeast 
rain storm set in the waters soon drove the men from the holes 
and there was no escape from standing in the cold wind and 
rain. Constant exercise to keep up. circulation and warmth 
was the only safeguard. 

Of clothes, many had a simple pretense; and quite a number 
were reduced to a rag around their loins. It was no uncommon 
thing for a man in anticipation of death to sell such apparel as 
he might have for food, the purchaser to take the clothes from 
the body of the seller after death. To such an extent did com- 
rades suffer from hunger that in cases they have sold their 



CAMP AND FIEI ft, 311 

clothes to one, two, and three different parties before they 
died. Of course in such cases it resulted in serious and bitter 
quarrels as to the ownership of the rags. At no time was fuel 
furnished but for cooking purposes, and then very meagerly; 
yet there was just outside forests in abundance. For a little 
time details of men were allowed to go out for wood, but the 
number attempting to escape soon cut off this privilege. A 
pint of meal,— corn and cob ground together,— a small piece of 
blue beef, constituted a day's rations. Many were too reduced 
to eat such food, but nothing else was furnished, and even this 
was raw. The writer has seen a man just at the gates of 
death eagerly clutching and gibberishly talking to an ear 
of corn, as though it were an inestimable treasure. The enemy 
frequently quoted their abundant supply of corn as an evidence 
of their ability to continue the contest until victory should 
crown their effort. The ground v^as alive with vermin and of 
necessity the living suffered indescribably from them. Only 
the maggots would feed upon the festering corpse; other vermin 
would leave the victim as soon as dead and seek if possible to 
increase the swarms already covering the living. The anguish 
of lingering deaths suffered by comrades, if possible to describe, 
would haunt the reader with a specter so horrid as to blast every 
pleasure of life. The atmosphere was poisoned from the sinks 
which occupied the upper- part of the inclosure. No attempt 
at removing or covering the excrement was made, and so night 
and day it was breeding disease and death. 

There was little that comrades could do for each other; it was 
an individual struggle for life. The sun by day and the dews 
and chills of night induced typhus and typhoid fever; chronic 
diarrhea was alarmingly prevalent; the lack of vegetables in- 
duced scurvy, while the poisoned air gave death a mortgage 
upon all, and in many cases it was speedily foreclosed. The 
dead line, imaginary in itself, w^as made real by the forms of 
those who fell from rebel bullets. Murder was at a premium, and 
lie who could circumvent the death of a Yankee was f urloughed 
or promoted, and no questions asked. One man on his knees, 
and engaged in prayer in a prayer-meeting, — think of it, a 
prayer-meeting there! — was shot dead. His murderer was pro- 
moted. Bloodhounds were there to outstrip the adventurous 
one who would attempt to escape, and if he escaped being 
mangled by the hounds, he could mark time all day in the 



512 



CAMP AND FIELD 



scorching sun, at the point of the bayonet, knowing, if he 
faltered but a step, it was instant death or being hung up by 
the thumbs, until death itself would seem a glad relief. The 
insurbordination of any person furnished an excuse for cutting 
off the rations from the whole camp. Thus, the soldier of the 
Union endured and suffered; and, alas I how many died, until the 
glad hour of peace brought back hope and heme, and a grand 
realization of all for which they fought and waited? 



THK RETRKAT. 



4iTT THERE'S Fred— is he back in 

\ /\ / the villainous rain ? 

V V We're out in an ocean ! Let's 
hold up a bit ; 
A comrade's a comrade ; we'll find him 
again 
And keep him ahead. It's a pity he's 
hit. 

" Keep 5'our horse to the right ! Did 
you hear a halloo ? 
This pipe in my pocket has torn — 
ha ! he's there ! 
He rode like a man in the battle all 
through. 
He's coming all right ; I'll trust to that 
mare. 

" She's the captain's, you know — or was, 
to-day noon , 
But Fred got her next ! I suppose 'ts 
all fair ; 
I was corporal, well ! — by Jove there's 
the moon, 
And Fred's lying over his pommel, 
I swear ! 

" It's too late. Hurry on. We are rid- 
ing for life. 
Oh, it's rough ! and he fought like a 
•^ tiger at bay, 

Did you mind that deep cut he got 
from a knife. 
When he closed with the big rebel 
captain to-day? 

" Hurry on ! we are lagging. I say, 
hurry on 1 
It's too late, we must get to the 
river to-night. 
30 



God ! he's groaning ! I — I — Jack, you 
ride on alone, 
It won't do ; he stuck to us to-day in 
the fight. 

" Well, stay if you will. See how weak 
he has grown ! 
How he clutches the mane ! 

Fred ! Fred ! Cheer up, man ! 
Cheer up i the river's a little way on, 
If we can make that we're safe, and 
I am certain we can. 

" Rouse up ! don't you know me, old 
fellow ? It's i. 
Your conn-ade " — the trooper is call- 
ing in vain ; 
To his anxious ear comes no reply 
But the jaded tramp in the plashing 
rain. 

The crouching figure its steed be- 
strode 
With a clasp as firm as in deadly 
fight; 
He has passed the river; the trooper 
rode 
In death, as in life, on that fearful 
night. 

The ride was over, the night had 
flown ; 
The river was reached at the dawn 
of day ; 
But back by the roadside sleeping 
alone 
In the dusk of the morning a com- 
rade lay. 



The 8tli Iowa at the Capture of Mohile. 

APRIL, 1865. 

A Gallant Charge from the Trenches into the Enemy's Works. 

By CHAPLAIN HOWARD, 124lh 111. 




PRIL 8th, the 13th and last day of the siege, 
opened fair and cool. Skirmishing had been 
going on all night, but there had been very little 
artillery firing. About noon, we received orders 
to be ready to march with twenty days' rations- 
five in haversacks, and fifteen in wagons. This 
the men did not relish; it seemed like cheating them out of the 
fruits of a well-earned victory. At 5 p. m., our brigade was 
ordered back into the rifle-pits, as there was to be a general 
bombardment. Soon after, it began from ninety-six guns, 
fifty-three of which were siege guns. The enemy were also 
shelling heavily, and the effect was terrific. The corps com- 
manders had discretionary orders from the beginning of the 
siege to take every advantage that promised decisive results. 
Just when the cannonading was at its height, General Carr 
determined to carry a crest covered with pines, for the purpose 
of planting a battery. The execution of this undertaking was 
given by Colonel Geddes, who was in command of the brigade, 
to Lieut. -Col. Bell, of the 8th Iowa, who accomplished it gal- 
lantly, though not without severe loss. In doing it he pushed 
forward only three companies of his regiment, while all the 
rest of the brigade was engaged in the rifle-pits, where the 
firing blinded the rebels to what was being done on their left. 
So, when those who were first attacked had yielded, and the 
victorious 8th moved on to adjacent pits, they were a perfect 
surprise to their occupants, who surrendered or were shot down 
in their tracks. In this way. the gallant 8th captured about 
three hundred yards of the Confederate works, with three 



514 CAMP AND FIELD. 

stands of colors, and about three hundred and fifty prisoners 
before enemies or friends hardly realized what was being 
attempted: in fact, it was a surprise to themselves, and was 
one of the most dashing- and brilliant exploits of the war. It 
was now quite dark; but gaining a knowledge of what was 
going forward, the rest of the brigade gallantly rushed out of 
the trenches and entered the works. We were ordered to com- 
mence intrenching to hold our ground, as no other portion of 
the besieging force was in concert with us. This we actually 
commenced to do; but were soon compelled to form line to repel 
assault, one having just been made upon the 8th Iowa's advance. 
After advancing about one hundred and fifty yards, a piece of 
artillery opened with grape, but they speedily captured it, and 
with it eight or ten prisoners and another gun. Sending his pris- 
oners to the rear, Captain Pratt requested permission to continue 
his advance, as he believed that the enemy was evacuating, and 
that these few men were only a feint to cover the escape of the 
main body. Co. F continued to move forward, capturing eight 
or ten pieces of artillery, and more men than its own force num- 
bered. Some of the men inquired if the captain was going to 
take Co. F to Mobile unsupported. At last the rest of the 
regiment came up to find the rebels really gone, and they pene- 
trated as far in the darkness as old Spanish Fort, which was 
reached about midnight. Here, we stacked arms and rested; 
scrambling meantime for the possession of the guns, and for the 
hams and cornmeal left by the garrison. Very soon, the 
Octorora, not knowing of the change of administration in 
the fort, sent a hundred-pound shell, and it was deemed prudent 
to withdraw, so they returned to their quarters, reaching them 
about three o'clock in the morning, confident that they had 
done a pretty good night's work. 



THE « IMPERIAL." THE FIRST CAVALRY FIGHT. 



h^HE first boat to descend to New 'THE first real cavalry fight of the 
Orleans after the capture of Vicks- / war took place at Kelly's Ford, 
burg was the Imperial. about the 15th of March, 1863. 



I! 



The Citizen Soldier. 



SoMK OK His Kirst Kxperirnces. 



Reminiscences of Enlistment Days. — In Camp at Pittsfield. — Incidents 

of the Journey to Washington. — The First Regular Encampment 

on Arlington Heights. — Going to the Front in 1862. 

JA-fvIES L. BOWEN, 37tU IVIass. 



<;■.!€, 'M, M-'M. 



O one who participated in the thrilling- scenes of 
1801-5 will forget the emotions and the mental strug- 
gles which preceded and accompanied the active 
part which he took in the war for the Union. War 
was so strange, so utterly unknown a thing in the 
then recent history of the country, with the excep- 
tion of the brief and far away events in Mexico, 
that the young men of that day had, I suppose, as 
little comprehension of what it really meant as an 
intelligent being could well have. He had read of 
the bloody scenes in the early history of the country, 
the cruel Indian wars which had given the fathers 
possession of the land; the long struggles which had 
led to the establishment of the country — of the hor- 
rors of British prison ships and the sufferings of Valley Forge, 
and had felt with deep movings of the soul that the blessings 
which had been won at such cost by the sires should be pre- 
served at all hazards by the sons. But had those sons the 
courage to meet the great test of the battle field, and all that 
war meant? This was a question which came home to every 
thinking man oftener and more forcibly than he confessed to 
even his nearest friend. 

This question deepened in importance as the months rolled 
away and it became evident to the most reluctant that war in 




516 CAMP AND FIELD. 

dead earnest was upon us, and that the fact had to be recog- 
nized. How feverish those early days! With what eagerness 
the more impulsive sought to enroll themselves among the de- 
fenders of the flag which had been insulted at Sumter! How rap- 
idly companies were formed, and how earnestly they pleaded to be 
allowed to go somewhere tkat they might do service before it 
became too late! The earlier contingents, hastily summoned 
for brief service, had representatives of our communities; then 
followed the more deliberate preparations and the gathering of 
forces for longer terms of service. With what pride we looked 
upon the miposing battalion line of our brave boys! The sum- 
mer wore away, and the lessons of Bull Run and Ball's Bluff 
were learned. The conviction that the war was an earnest one 
deepened, and yet human nature — intolerant of pain, and suffer- 
ing, and death for its friends — could look upward with faith- 
brightened vision and sigh, "Not for long." 

The first winter passed, spring came, and the crash of battle 
shook the country. Wherever the contending armies met our 
brothers and friends were in the front; day by day came back 
the sad intelligence of the bright and brave ones who had 
fallen in battle or by disease; in every community wounded, 
maimed, and crippled ones were to be seen, everywhere the ob- 
jects of the most tender attention and the deepest sympathy. 
And yet the rebellion did not collapse. Notwithstanding the 
multitudes that had gone forth, the early summer of 1862 saw a 
call for 300,000 more volunteers for three years or during the 
war, followed almost immediately by a summons for another 
300,000 for nine months, the latter to be raised by draft, if nec- 
essary. Those were portentous words; the quotas must be 
filled. 

Meetings were held in every community, urging the cause of 
the country, the honor of the commonwealth, the patriotism of 
the individual, among other reasons for the decisive step. A 
na.tional bounty of one hundred dollars had been offered, 
twenty-five dollars payable on muster and the balance at the 
end of the term of service. The great question came to our 
young men more forcibly than it had come before. Those who 
had felt bound to home life, to their business pursuits or their 
books, — who had hoped that their services would not be needed, 
— could no longer disguise the fact that they were called to at- 
test their patriotism. 



CAMP AND FI^LD 517 

It was but natural that the recruit should find some difficult)' 
in adjusting himself to the changed mode of life. The greatest 
effort was not required in dropping the comforts of home and 
taking up life in the camp. Perchance the embryo soldier 
"felt lonesome" as he strolled among the hundreds of men 
whom he had never seen before, and looked for some one 
whom he knew, wandering down the street of the company to 
which he was assigned, with its row of small tents on each 
side, finding at length one in which the complement of four or 
six that it would accommodate was not filled and especially 
rejoiced if among the number there was one whom he had al- 
ready come to regard as a friend. Then it was not quite his 
way to wrap a blanket about him and sink down to sleep on the 
ground inside the tent, curling closer to his tent-mate as the 
chill of evening stole through the slight covering; but it was 
easy to learn and the warmth of a comrade's body and a share 
of his blanket in time of need kindled many a sincere friendship 
that glows in earnest hearts to-day, or that adds a tear and a 
kind memory to the annual flower-offering over the graves of 
the fallen. It cost something of an effort for the recruit to 
march three times a day to the long tables where the very plain 
rations with which he was provided were served on rough tin 
plates; but not very far in the future the "hash" which he 
then greeted with derisive cries he would have hailed as a royal 
banquet. In general it was not considered a hardship for the 
enlisted man to take his turn at guard duty, on drill or in such 
other service as was required of him; for having become a 
soldier he was anxious to acquit himself creditably, and the 
" veteran " who had seen a few months' service, especially if 
he had been discharged for wounds received and had recovered 
sufficiently to enlist again, was ever the center of an interested 
group, who were but too glad to hear and act upon his sugges- 
tions. 

But there was a task more difficult than all these for the vol- 
unteer soldier, and that was the bringing of the free American 
citizen to the point of military discipline and subordination 
requisite for efficiency in actual service. It was unavoidable 
that under the system of issuing commissions which prevailed, 
a very great diversity of military talent should have been dis- 
played by those who thus suddenly found themselves "officers." 
It was a good deal of a tax on the bright young man who had 



518 * CAMP AND FIELD. 

been all his life his own master to bring him at once to the in- 
flexible requirements of military discipline, at the best; and 
this difficulty was sensibly increased when he found that his 
neighbor and life-long acquaintance, a man in no respect his 
superior, was placed in a position to demand from him the most 
implicit and unquestioning obedience. The situation was still 
further complicated when the officer, as was many times the 
case, proved destitute of military tact and capacity, or used his 
power to gratify personal likes or dislikes, or to "payoff old 
scores." Such wearers of the shoulder-straps were not long left 
in ignorance of the feelings of the men toward them, though 
outwardly the semblance of subordination might be preserved. 
On the other hand, an officer who was an adept in such degree 
of military science as he was called upon to use in the ordinary 
discharge of his duties, who was cool, intelligent, impartial, 
and possessed of a good voice (one of the important require- 
ments), did not fail of appreciation, though a stern disciplin- 
arian and sometimes severe in his methods. 

The explanation of this feeling, apart from the common in- 
stincts of humanity, was very simple. The rank and file of the 
volunteer service were the embodiment of Kossuth's terse 
apothegm, " In this country, bayonets think." These men had 
become soldiers knowing that privation, hardships, and very 
likely death were before them; but they held their lives too 
valuable to feel reconciled that they should be wasted through 
the incompetence of their officers. " He can handle us when 
we get into battle," was one of the highest compliments that an 
enlisted man could pay to his commander of any grade, and 
that feeling offset many an experience which otherwise would 
have been unbearable. 

What touching scenes were those which witnessed the de- 
parture of the volunteers for the "seat of war," and how the 
memory of them still lingers I The last days in camp were full 
of interesting scenes; the visits of friends to speak the final 
farewells, of other kind souls, interested in the welfare of 
" our boys " who were going forth on so sacred a mission, anx- 
ious to present some memento, to do something that should 
make the experience of the soldier less painful. From the gifts 
of friends, in addition to the provision made by the soldier him- 
self for his comfort, the knapsacks of the outgoing volunteers 
became something wonderful to behold. It was a bright au- 



CAMP AXD FIELD, 519^ 

tumn day when the regiment left Camp Briggs, and the march 
to the village, where the formal words of farewell were spoken 
and cars were taken, was not long; but short as was the 
journey and favorable as was the day, many a poor fellow, 
staggering under his burden, anxious on that proud day to 
make the best and most soldierly appearance possible, found 
that he had vastly overtaxed his powers with the multitude of 
" necessaries"" which he was undertaking to carry. 

Like other days which had witnessed the departure of our 
volunteers, this 7th of September, 1862, was a memorable day 
— filled with patriotic pride, mingled with hope and that inex- 
pressible dread and foreboding which the scene .could but 
awaken. How densely the streets of Pittsfiejd were packed 
on that Sabbath day, not only with its own citizens but with 
those of all the country about who had come down to see ''our 
regiment "' and to speak a last good-by. Then the great train 
of twenty-seven cars rolled away westward, leaving behind the 
friends and acquaintances, bearing its precious freight among 
strangers, — but though strangers, everywhere the same inter- 
est was.manifest in the passing regiment. New York city gave 
an ovation as hearty and a feast as sumptuous as though the 
volunteers had been their own. The national colors — the red, 
white and blue — were everywhere, worn by young and old, 
kindly dames and blooming maidens, white-haired men and 
impulsive boys. Wherever the regiment came in contact with 
the citizens, or wherever there w^as opportunity for the expres- 
sion of regard, the same feeling was manifested; nowhere, of 
course, quite so ardently as in Philadelphia, — that city of 
Brotherly Love through which during all the war no loyal 
soldier passed, by day or by night, without a bountiful repast 
served by the tireless men and women of that city. Even Bal- 
timore, not quite recovered from its sullen hostility, and doubt- 
less hoping great things from Lee's army, then in Maryland, 
had loyal citizens enough to give the various regiments gener- 
ous treatment, 

"With all these exhibitions of kindness and that unflagging 
interest which lined the streets till past the midnight hour with 
citizens of all classes to give the soldier boys a hearty god-speed, 
it was a natural expectation that when the National Capital 
should be reached the reception must be something grand. 
The reality was terribly disappointing. The train deposited its 



520 CAMP AND FIELD. 

load at the outskirts of the city in a drizzling rain, and after 
waiting a v/hile the command was directed to proceed to a 
"Soldiers' Retreat," or something of that sort, not far away for 
supper. Canteens and haversacks were emptied that they might 
be filled anew with the plenteous supply which was ho doubt 
waiting, and then the line moved to its destination. The sur- 
roundings were not inviting. If the city of Washington had 
any board of health, its " smelling committee" certainly hadn't 
been in that neighborhood. Supper was ready when the hungry 
men filed into the vast building. And such a supper — in con- 
trast to recent experiences! A slice of bread, a piece of meat 
and a cup of coffee beside each tin plate constituted the bill of 
fare. The bread was passable; the meat might have been some- 
time — its strongest appeal wasn't to the sense of taste. As 
for the coffee, the less said the better. The broth from iliat 
meat was evidently one of the principal ingredients; of what 
else it was composed no one took a second taste to determine. 

After supper the regiment was quartered in some barracks 
close by, — a large structure in whose vast expanse that regiment 
of more than a thousand men seemed to dwindle into insignifi- 
cance. One corner was set apart for its occupancy, and into 
that space the officers and men closed in mass — and a pretty 
compact mass it seemed, too. However, there was a reason- 
able amount of room, and stretching themselves upon the floor 
the men were soon comfortably (?) disposed for the night. But 
who ever knew the first disposition of a military body to re- 
main unchanged over night? Other troops were coming in, a 
heavy rain-storm prevailed, and when the rest of the immense 
shed had been filled the 37th was tersely informed that it must 
contract itself into half the space then occupied to make room 
for another regiment. So the men rose to their feet, not very 
cheerfully, huddled together about as closely as they could 
stand, and the manner in which the rest of the night was 
passed in the midst of that steaming mass of water-soaked 
humanity may be imagined. 

In the morning before setting out to cross the Potomac to the 
first regular encampment on Arlington Heights, and on the way 
there, the first impressions of the national seat of government 
deepened. There were evidences on every hand of what bloody, 
relentless war meant. The long streets seemed lined with tne 
offices of surgeons, undertakers, and embalmers. Coffins, arti- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



521 



ficial limbs, and the like ghastly articles greeted the eye 
wherever it turned. Here and there an ambulance drove care- 
fully along the street, giving unmistakable evidence of its con- 
tents; an old army wagon was toiling along here and there; there 
were soldiers to be seen — too many of them — all without excep- 
tion were wounded, bandaged invalids, or the more pitiable 
looking fever patients creeping about the streets with the 
shadow of death darkening their wan visages. It was to repair 
the dreadful waste of which these were the visible evidences 
that the bright-faced, healthful boys and strong young men 
from the hills of Berkshire and the Connecticut valley were go- 
ing forth. The soldier realized now, as he had not done before, 
that he was no longer a freeman, an individual, an important 
personage of greater or less degree — he had surrendered all this 
with his citizenship in becoming a soldier, an atom in that 
great mass of organized humanity that was to surge and dash 
for almost three years more against armed rebellion, till that 
magnificent battalion, like so many another, should be reduced 
to a mere handful of bronzed, scarred, war-hardened veterans; 
but also till the authority of the government should be fully 
reasserted, the cause of the war forever removed, and there 
should be a reunited country beneath the flag of the Union. 



Confederate Brigade Driven by a 
Single Regiment. 



'pHE fii'st time an entire rebel brig- 
ade was driven from tlie field by a 
single regiment, was on the third day 
of the battle of Gettysburg, when the 
1st Mich. Cavalry Regt. engaged and 
defeated Hampton's brigade. 



Pnblic Honor to Grant at Memphis^ 
1863. 



'pHE first public exhibition of loyalty 
to the United States government on 
the part of the citizens of Memphis, 
Tenn., was on the 25th of August, 1863, 
when a grand entertainment was given 
to General Grant. 




THE MYSTERIOUS LETTERS CUT IN A BEECH TREE. 

A Treasure Discovered by the Kindly Aid of a Friendless Dog, 
with a Beating for His Pains. 

BY A CONFEDERATE SOLDIER. 

-•l!^^" '<i^-' '■^' '-l^' -•{gS- ■'■^^' '^ 



5> 



IklOc^HEN Johnston was falling back before Sherman's 
i/ advance through northern Georgia, and before the 
c) conflicts at Lost and Pine mountains, I was continu- 
ally on the front with a band of scouts. We penetrated the 
Yankee lines time after time, but always to return to head- 
quarters with the same report. Sherman had one of the 
grandest armies in the world, and he was in such strength that 
he could fight Johnston in front and pass his flanks at the same 
time. 

One day, when scouting between Marietta and the Etowah 
river, the Federal cavalry passed and cut off my retreat by 
the highways, and for six or seven hours I was obliged to 
secrete myself in a thicket. It was in leaving this hiding place 
that I came across a dog, which was doubtless owned in the 
near vicinity, but had been frightened into the woods by the 
skirmishing. He took to me kindly, and had dogged my heels 
for half an hour,~ when he suddenly leaped aside and began 
pawing the ground at the foot of a large beech. I halted for a 
moment and saw that the earth was fresh, as if a grave had 
been dug. It was but natural to conclude that some one had 
been shot near by. and that his comrades had given him burial. 

Upon closely examining the tree I found the fresh-cut ini- 
tials: " D. S. G." They were not where one would have looked 
for them, but within three feet of the ground. I had no doubt 
whatever that a dead man rested there, and I picked up a club 
and drove the dog away unrlpr the impression that he was 



CAMP AND FIELD. 523 

hungry and determined to get at the body. I succeeded after 
a couple of days in getting back into the Confederate lines, 
and the incident did not recur to me for long years. 

One summer's day in 1870, while I was going from Rome to 
Cartersville, I formed the acquaintance of a stranger who gave 
his name as Charles Gaines, and who claimed to be a Virginian. 
He said he was looking for improved land, and had been 
advised to locate near Marietta. This story was straight 
enough, except that I did not believe he was a Virginian. He 
hadn't the look nor the dialect, and when I came to quiz him 
about certain locations around Richmond he soon became con- 
fused. 

I was then a detective in the employ of several railroad lines, 
and it was only natural for me to ask myself why this man had 
lied to me. I took pains to let him know that I was willing to 
answer all his questions, and directly he began asking about 
the section of country between Marietta and Etowah. He 
wanted to know the value of land; if much forest had been 
cleared since the war; if there had been any finds of treasure 
around Marietta, and various other things. He worked the 
answers out of me without seeming to be more than generally 
interested, and while I was somehow suspicious of him, I could 
not exactly determine on what to place my finger. But he had 
lied. Why? I kept asking myself this question, but could not 
answer it. 

He had a ticket to Cartersville, and before we reached that 
place I had made up my mind to go on with him to Marietta. 
What decided me was this: He sat on the outside of the seat, 
and a passenger going to the water-cooler knocked his hat off. 
It rested for a moment in the aisle, and I plainly read the 
name " Boston " inside in gilt letters. The name of the maker 
was above it, but I could not catch it. No hat sold in Rich- 
mond would bear the name of Boston. Where did he get it? 
By and by I made a careful examination of his boots. He never 
bought them south of the Ohio. I decided the same in regard 
to his clothing. He was trying to deceive me. What object 
could he have in view? 

\Vhen we reached Marietta, both of us 'went to the same 
hotel. I thought he began to fight shy of me and I took pains 
to keep out of his vv^ay. During the evening he asked several 
townspeople in regard to the country north of Marietta, and 



524 CAMP AND FIELD. 

engaged of a livery man a saddle horse for next day. I did a 
heap of thinking that night over the stranger's case, but when 
morning came I was none the wiser for it. His horse was brought 
around after breakfast and he rode oflf. I was tempted to get 
another and follow him, but by what right? What had he done 
or what was he going to do? I went up to my room on an errand, 
not yet decided whether to go or stay, and in the hallway my 
foot struck a memorandum book. I carried it into my room, 
and the first thing my eye caught was the name inside the 
cover " George Paige."' It was a well-worn book, and nearly 
full of entries. Most of them seemed to relate to trips between 
Boston and Providence, but near the back end I found one 
reading: — 

About ten miles north of Marietta, Ga.; turn to right where highway bends to 
left; go into woods about ten rods; look for twin beech tree, with initials 
" D. S. G." cut low down. 

My heart gave a jump. That was the spot where the Yankee 
cavalry run me into hiding, and these were the initials I had 
seen on the tree I Had this stranger come down to unearth a 
skeleton? I was wondering over the matter when I heard the 
clatter of hoofs and knew that he had returned. He had dis- 
covered the loss of this book. Now. then, I did what you may 
call a mean trick. I pocketed the book, got down stairs with- 
out being seen, and went to the nearest justice and demanded 
a warrant for the arrest of George Paige for robbery. Before he 
had ceased looking for his lost memorandum a constable made 
him prisoner. Meanwhile I had engaged a horse and wagon, 
borrowed an empty tea chest and a spade, and, as Paige went 
to jail, I drove out of town. I wanted to unearth that skeleton 
myself. 

It was six years since I had left it, but I had but little diffi- 
culty in finding the grave, although the beech tree had been 
cut down. Indeed. I walked almost straight to it, and, though 
the initials were indistinct, they were there as witnesses. In 
half an hour I had unearthed the " corpse." He. or it, con- 
sisted of a rotten coffee-sack wrapped around a muddy blue 
blouse, and inside the blouse were three gold watches, $420 in 
gold, $1,303 in greenbacks, half a dozen gold rings, a fine 
diamond pin, two gold bracelets, a gold-lined cup. a full set of 
cameo jewelry, a solid silver back comb, and about four pounds 



CAMP AND FIELDo 



525 



of silver spoons and forks, the whole find being worth to me 
nearly $8,000. 

The stuff had been deposited there by two or three or perhaps 
lialf a dozen foragers, and much of it had been stolen from the 
dead on the battle fields. 

When the treasure had been secured I drove on to Carters- 
ville, and from thence sent the horse back and telegraphed to 
Paige my regrets at his situation, as I had discovered my 
mistake in accusing him. He was held a day or two and dis- 
charged. He rode out to the spot, found the treasure gone, and 
left the state without a word as to what his real errand had 
been, 

Olk IVEarstkr— Ko' de War. 

BY W. P. CARTER. 



tLE Marster comin' fru de bars, 
Don't yer hear dat horse a 
snortin' ? 
Shiiv dem marbuls in yer pocket, 
Shet up and hishe dat torkin'. 
Drap dat hoe agin dem taters, 

Horsewhip mighty cooliii'; 
Ole Marster sorter curus 

When he ketch de nigger fulin'. 

Hi, looker yonder, Ephrum, 

B'leve he gone down in the medder ; 
Jes' fotch dem marbiils out agin — 

We'll hav' a game togedder. 
Wish I was white fokes — 

Eatin' sweet cake and muffin, 
A-bossin' uv de niggers, 

Ridin' roun' an' doiu' nuffin'. 

Ole jMarster luv de blooded horse, 

Got plenty in de stable, 
Bit an' stirrups shinin' 

Like silber on de table ; 
Ride ober de odder place, 

Pocket full uv money ; 
Arter while he come back home, 

And buck dat peach and honey. 



Ole fiel' lark sing pooty chune 

Ebry Sunday mornin'; 
Brer Ambrose at de meetin' house, 

To gib de niggers warnin'; 
Ole Marster at de big chuch, 

Wid de 'ligious an' de sinner. 
An' den he fotch de preacher 

An' all de people home to dinner. 

Ole Marster got a heap uv land, 

And money widout figgers ; 
Ole fiel' full ub sheep and things. 

And quarter full uv niggers ; 
He treat de black folks mighty well, 

Tears like 'tis in he nacher-; 
Oberseer play de debbil dough, 

When he at de Legislacher. 

Ole Marster w'or' de high black hat 

And standin' up shirt collar — 
Shuv dem marbuls in yer pocket, 

Dat de oberseer holler ! 
Don't yer hear him hine de 'backer 
house ? 

Cowhide soon be rulin'; 
Oberseer mons'us curus 

When he ketch de nigger fulin'. 



PlIRAL POPR'S REMIFISGENGES. 

Visit ^ of * President 4^ Lincoln ^ to * Richmond. 

SHARP DODGE TO SOOTHE SOUTHERN FEELINGS. 




NARROW ESCAPE FROM A GRIEVOUS BLUNDER. 

By DAVID D. PORTER, Admiral U. S. N. 

^«^ ■ 

i^S we lay below Richmond in the flagship Malvern, Mr. 
John A. Campbell, late justice of the Supreme Court of 
ww/x'^^ the United States, sent a request to be allowed to come 
^<2>4S on board with General Weitzel. He wanted to call on 
the President. He came on board and spent an hour. The 
President and himself seemed to be enjoying themselves very 
much, to judge from their laughing so much. I did not go 
down to the cabin. In an hour General Weitzel and Mr. 
Campbell came on deck, asked for a boat, and were landed. I 
went down below for a moment, and the President said: "Ad- 
miral, I am sorry you were not here when Mr. Campbell was 
on board. He has gone on shore happy. I gave him a written 
permission to allow the state legislature to convene in the capi- 
tol in the absence of all other government." 

I was rather astonished at this piece of information. I felt 
that this course would bring about complications, and wondered 
how it had all come to pass. It had all been done by the smooth 
tongue of Mr. Campbell, who had promised the President that 
if the legislature of Virginia could meet in the place where the 
Confederate congress had met, they would vote Virginia right 
back into the Union; that it would be a delicate compliment 
paid to Virginia, which would be appreciated, etc. Weitzel 
backed up Mr. Campbell, and the President was won over to 
agree to what would have been a most humiliating thing if it 
had been accomplished. 



CAMP ANf) FIEI.Ii. 527 

When the President told me all that had been done, and that 
General Weitzel had gone on shore with an order in his 
pocket to let the legislature meet, I merely said: "Mr. Presi- 
dent, I suppose you remember that this city is under military 
jurisdiction, and that no courts, legislature, or civil authority 
can exercise any power without the sanction of the general 
commanding the army. This order of yours should go through 
General Grant, who would inform you that Richmond was 
under martial law, and, I am sure, he would protest against 
this arrangement of Mr. Campbell." 

The President's common sense took in the situation at once. 
"Why," he said, "Weitzel made no objection, and he com- 
mands here." 

"That is because he is Mr. Campbell's particular friend," I 
said, "and wished to gratify him, and I don't think he knows 
much about anything but soldiering. General Shepley would 
not have preferred such a request." 

" Run and stop them," said the President, "and get my order 
back! Well, I came near knocking all the fat into the fire, 
didn't I?" 

To make things sure, I had an order written to General 
Weitzel, and signed by the President, as follows: "Return my 
permission to the legislature of Virginia to meet, and don't 
allow it to meet at all." There was a fruit wagon at the land- 
ing, and, giving the order to an officer, I said to him: "Jump 
into the wagon and kill the horse, if necessary, but catch the 
carriage which carried General Weitzel and Mr. Campbell, and 
deliver this order to the general." The carriage was caught 
before it reached the city. The old fruit wagon horse had been 
a trotter in his day, and went his three minutes. The general 
and Mr. Campbell were surprised. The President's order was 
sent back, and they never returned to try and reverse the Pres- 
ident's decision. 

Mr. Campbell evidently saw that his scheme of trying to put 
the state legislature in session with the sanction of the Presi- 
dent had failed, and that it was useless to try it again. It was 
a clever dodge to soothe the wounded feelings of the South, and 
no doubt was kindly meant by the late Justice Campbell, but 
what a howl it would have raised at the North. Mr. Campbell 
had been gone about an hour when we had another remarkable 
scene. A man appeared at the landing dressed in gray home- 



528 CAMP AXn FIELD 

spun, with a somewhat decayed appearance, and with a staff 
about six feet long in his hand. It was, in fact, nothing more 
than a stick taken from a wood pile. It was two and a half 
inches in diameter, and was not even smoothed at the knots. 
It was just such a weapon as a man would pick up to kill a mad 
dog with. 

"Who are you, and what do you want?" asked the officer of 
the deck. "You cannot come on board unless you have im- 
portant business." 

" I am Duff Green," said the man; " I want to see Abraham 
Lincoln, and my business concerns myself alone. You tell 
Abraham Lincoln Duff Green wants to see him." 

The officer came down into the cabin and delivered the mes- 
sage. I rose and said, " I will go up and send him away," but 
the President said, "Let him come on board. Duff is an old 
friend of mine, and I would like to talk to. him." 

I then went on deck to have a boat sent for him, and to see 
what kind of a man this was who sent off such arrogant mes- 
sages to the President of the United States. He stepped into 
the boat as if it belonged to him; instead of sitting down he 
stood up, leaning on his long staff. When he came over the 
side, he stood on the deck defiantly, looked up at the flag and 
scowled, and then, turning to me (whom he knew very well), 
he said, "I want to see Abraham Lincoln." He paid no 
courtesy to me or to the quarter-deck. 

It had been a very long time since he had shaved or cut his 
hair, and he might have come under the head of "unkempt 
and not canny." 

"When you come," I said, "in a respectful manner the 
President will see you, but throw away that cord of wood 
you have in your hand, before entering the President's pres- 
ence." 

" How long is it," said he, " since Abraham Lincoln took to 
aping royalty? Man dressed in brief authority cuts such fan- 
tastic capers before high heaven that it makes the angels weep. 
T can expect airs from a naval officer, but I don't expect to find 
them in a man with Abraham Lincoln's horse sense." 

I thought the man crazy, and think so still. " I can't permit 
you to see the President," I said, " until I receive further in- 
structions, but you can't see him at all until you throw that 
wood pile overboard." 



CAMP AND FIELD. 529 

He turned on his heel and tried to throw the stick on shore, 
but it fell short, and went floating down with the current. 

"Ah! " he said, " has it come to that? Is he afraid of assassi- 
nation? Tyrants generally get into that condition." 

I went down and reported this queer customer to the Presi- 
dent, and told him I thought the man crazy, but he said: " Let 
him come down; he always was a little queer. I shan't mind 
him." Mr. Duff Green was shown into the cabin. The President 
got up from his chair to receive him, and approaching him, 
offered him his hand. " No," said Green, with a tragic air, " it 
is red with blood; I can't touch it. When I knew it, it was an 
honest hand. It has cut the throats of thousands of my people, 
and their blood which now lies soaking in the ground cries 
aloud to heaven for vengeance. I came to see you, not for 
old remembrance sake, but to give you a piece of my opinion. 
You won't like it, but I don't care, for people don't generally 
like to have the truth told them. You have come here, pro- 
tected by your army and navy, to gloat over the ruin and 
desolation you have caused. You are a second Nero, and, 
had you lived in his day, you would have fiddled while Rome 
was burning! " 

When the fanatic commenced this tirade of abuse, Mr. Lin- 
coln was standing with his hand outstretched, his mouth 
wreathed with the pleasant smile he almost always wore, and 
his eyes lighted up as when anything pleased him. He was 
pleased because he was about to meet an old and esteemed 
friend, and better pleased that he had come to see him of his 
own accord. 

Mr. Lincoln gradually withdrew his outstretched hand as 
Duff Green started on his talk, the smile left his lips as the 
talker got to the middle of his harangue, and the softness of 
his eyes faded out. He was another man altogether. 

Had any one shut his eyes after Duff Green commenced 
speaking, and opened them when he stopped, he would have 
seen a perfect transformation. His slouchy position had disap- 
peared, his mouth was compressed, his eyes were fixed, and he 
looked four inches taller than usual. 

Duff Green went on without noticing the change in the Presi- 
dent's manner and a})pearance. "You came here," he con- 
tinued, "to triumph over a poor conquered town, with only 
women and children in it, whose soldiers have left it and would 



530 CAMP AND FIELD. 

rather starve than see your hateful presence here; those sol- 
diers — and only a handful at that — who have for four years 
defied your paid mercenaries on these glorious hills, and have 
taught you to respect the rights of the South. You have given 
your best blood to conquer them, and now you will march back 
to your demoralized capital and lay out your wits to win them 
over, so that you can hold this government in perpetuity. 
Shame on you I Shame on " 

Mr. Lincoln could stand it no longer; his coarse hair stood on 
end, and his nostrils dilated like those of an excited race-horse. 
He stretched out his long right arm. and extended his lean fore- 
finger until it almost touched Duff Green's face. He made one 
step forward to place himself as near as possible to this vituper- 
ator, and, in a clear, cutting voice, addressed him. 

He was really graceful while he was speaking — the grace- 
of one who is expressing his honest convictions. "Stop, 
you political tramp," he exclaimed; "you, the aider and 
abettor of those who have brought all this ruin on your 
country, without the courage to risk your person in de- 
fense of the principles you profess to espouse. A fellow who 
stood by to gather up the loaves and fishes, if any should fall 
to you. A man who had no principles in the North, and who 
took none South with him. A political hyena, who robbed the 
graves of the dead, and adopted their language as his own I 
You talk of the North cutting the throats of the Southern peo- 
ple. You have all cut your own throats, and unfortunately 
have cut many of those of the North. Miserable impostor, vile 
intruder, go, before I forget myself, and the high position I 
hold. Go, I tell you, and don't desecrate this national vessel 
another minute! " And he made a step toward him. 

This was something which Duff Green had not calculated 
upon; he had never seen Abraham Lincoln in anger. His 
courage failed him, and he turned and fled out of the cabin, 
and up the cabin stairs as if the avenging angel was after him. 
He never stopped until he reached the gangway, and there he 
stood looking at the shore, seemingly measuring the distance, 
to see if he could swim to the landing. 

I was close behind him, and when I got on deck, I said to the 
officer in charge, " Put that man on shore, and if he appears in 
sight of this vessel while we are here, have him sent away with 
scant ceremony." 



CAMP AND FIELD. 531 

He was as humble at that moment as a whipped dog, and 
Imrried into the boat. The last I saw of him he was striding 
rapidly over the fields, as if to reach the shelter of the woods. 
The man must have been deranged. When I returned to the 
cabin, about fifteen minutes later, the President was perfectly 
calm— as if nothing had happened— and did not return to the 
subject for some hours. Neither did I. 

"This place seems to give you annoyance, sir," said I. 
"Would you prefer to get under way and go to City Point, 
where we are more among friends than here?" 

"Yes," he answered, "let us go. I seem to be ' putting my 
foot into it' here all the time. Bless my soul, how Seward 
would have preached and read Puffendorf, Vattel, and Grotius 
to me, had he been here when I gave Campbell permission to 
let the legislature meet; Pd never have heard the last of it. 
Seward is a small compendium of international law himself, 
and laughs at my "horse sense.' which I pride myself on, and 
yet I put my foot into that thing about Campbell with my eyes 
wide open. If I were you, I don't think I would repeat that 
joke yet awhile. People might laugh at you for knowing so 
much, and more than the President. I am afraid that the most 
of my learning lies in my heart more than in my head." 

We got under way and steamed down the river. While I 
had been up at Richmond, the gunboat people had completely 
removed all the torpedoes from the bed of the river, and laid 
them all out on the banks, where they looked like so many 
queer fish basking in the sun. They were of all sizes, and some 
were as large as small alligators, which is rather an incompre- 
hensible description of them. 

The President had originally proposed to come up on horse- 
back, but I told hiin that "there was not a particle of dan- 
ger from torpedoes; that I would have them all taken up." 
When he saw them all on the bank, he turned to me and said: 
"You must have been 'awful afraid' of getting on that ser- 
geant's old horse again to risk all this." We got down safe, 
however. There was not enough danger to make it interesting. 
The President had some quaint remarks about everything we 
saw, particularly about Dutch Gap, which he said "ought to 
have been commenced before the war, at least ten years.'' 
" Then," he said, "you might have had a chance of getting 
your gunboats up that way. By the way, your friend, the gen- 



532 CAMP AND FIELD. 

eral, wasn't a ' boss ' engineer. He was better at running cot- 
ton mills. How many people did it cost for that jetty he con- 
quered? " 

"One hundred and forty killed there," I said, "as far as I 
can learn." 

Then he went into a discussion of the generals of the war — 
what difficulties he had in making appointments, etc. He il- 
lustrated each case with a story. In speaking of one general,, 
he said it reminded him of a friend of his — a blacksmith — he 
knew out in the West when he was a boatman. This old friend 
was celebrated for making good work, especially axes, which 
were in great demand in that day. No boatmen had a complete 
outfit unless he had a good axe. 

"One day," said the President, "he said tome: 'Lincoln, I 
have the finest piece of steel you ever saw; I got it on purpose 
to make an axe for you, and if you will sit down and tell me a 
good story, you shall have the axe when it is finished.' 'Go 
ahead,' I said, and I sat down to tell the story while he made 
the axe. 

" My friend the blacksmith first put on a huge piece of fresh 
coal, and blew it up until it was at a proper heat, — the coals 
glowing, — then he took up the piece of steel and looked at it 
affectionately, patted it all over, then ' Lincoln,' he said, ' did 
you ever see a piece of steel equal to that? It'll make you a 
companion you will never want to part with, and when you 
are using it you'll think of me.' Then he put it into the fire and 
began to work his bellows while I commenced my story. He 
blew and blew until the steel was at a deep, red heat, when, 
taking it out of the fire and laying it on the anvil, he gave it a 
clip with a four pound hammer. Lord bless you, how the 
sparks flew, and big red scales also! The blacksmith hit it 
about a dozen blows and then stopped. 'Lincoln,' he said, 
' here's a go, and a bad one, too. This lump of steel ain't worth 
the powder that would blow it up. I never was so deceived in 
anything in all my life. It won't make an axe. But I'll tell you 
what it will make. It will make a clevis,' and he put it in the 
fire again, and went through the same performance as before. 
Then, when it was heated, he laid it on the anvil, and commenced 
to hammer it. The sparks flew, and so did the scales, and in a 
minute half of it was gone. The blacksmith stopped and 
scratched his head, as men often do under difficulties. ' Well/ 



CAMP AND FIT7LD 533 

he said, 'this certainly is an onery piece of steel, but it 
may get better nearer the heart of it. I can't make a clevis of 
it but it will make a clevis bolt. It may have some good in it 
yet. After all a good clevis bolt is not a bad thing.' 

" He put it into the fire again, and this time got it to a white 
heat. ' I think I have it now, Lincoln,' and he pounded away 
at it until I was almost blinded with scales. 

" ' This won't do,' he said. ' I certainly don't know my trade 
to allow a d — d thing like that to fool me so. Well, well, it 
won't make a clevis bolt, but I have one resort yet; it will make 
a tenpenny nail. You will have to wait for your axe,' and he 
put the metal into the fire again. 

"This time he didn't blow it; he let it get red-hot naturally, 
and, when it was as he wanted it, he put it on the anvil again. 

" ' This,' he said, ' is a sure thing. I am down to the heart of 
the piece. There must be a tenpenny nail in this.' But he was 
mistaken; there was only a small piece of wire left. He was 
actually dazed. 

" ' Durn the thing,' said he. ' I don't know what to make of 
it. I tried it as an axe; it failed me. Then it failed me as a 
clevis. It failed me as a clevis bolt, and the cussed thing 
wouldn't even make a tenpenny nail! But I'll tell you, old fel- 
low, what it will make,' and he put it in the fire again until it 
and the tongs were at white heat. Then, turning around he 
rammed it into a bucket of water. 'There, durn you, you'll 
make a big fizzle, and that's all you will makel' and it splut- 
tered and fizzed until it went out, and there was nothing of it 
left. 

"Now, that's the case with the person I was speaking of," 
continued the President. " I tried him as an axe. I tried him 
as a clevis. He was so full of shakes he wouldn't work into 
one. I tried him as a clevis bolt. He was a dead failure, and he 
wouldn't make even a tenpenny nail. But he did make the big- 
gest fizzle that has been made this war, and fizzled himself out 

of the army, 

" With a shocking bad manner 
And his credit at zero, 
He was contented to stay 
At home as a hero ! " 

We anchored a short time afterwards, and were glad to be 
looking on the quiet wharves at City Point. 



534 CAMP AXD FIELD. 

That evening the sailors and marines were sent out to guard 
and escort in some prisoners, who were phiced on board a hirge 
transport lying in the stream. 

There were about a thousand prisoners, more or less. 

The President expressed a desire to go on shore. I ordered 
the barge and went with him. We had to pass the transport 
with the prisoners. They all rushed to the side with eager 
curiosity. All wanted to see the northern President. They 
were perfectly content. Every man had a hunk of meat and 
a piece of bread in his hand, and was doing his best to dispose 
of it. 

••That's Old Abe," said one in a low voice. " Give the old 
fellow three cheers," said another, while a third called out, 
•• Hello. Abe! your bread and meat is better than pop-corn." 

It was all good natured, and not meant in unkindness. I 
could see no difference between them and our own men, except 
that they were ragged and attenuated for want of wholesome 
food. They were as happy a set of men as ever I saw. They 
could see their homes looming up before them in the distance, 
and knew that the war w^as over, 

'* They will never shoulder a musket again in anger," said the 
President, ' and if Grant is wise he will leave them their guns 
to shoot cvc vs with — it w-ould do no harm." 



Running the Batteries at Vicksburg. 



WE first really obtained possession 
of the jNIississippi when Admiral 
Porter's fleet ran past the batteries at 
Vicksburg. 



First Armed regiment at Washington. Gen. Phil. Kearney's Honor. 

"HpHE riiot hiWj armed regiment to gf KN. PHIL KEARNEY was the 
enter WsJ-shington when it was be- first American officer ever decorated 

]eaguerfed by the rebels in 18(51, w\is with the Legion of Honor by the Eui- 

the 6tfc Ma.-is , Colonel Jones. peror Napoleon. - 

• — -»-S~«^ — o •* §^ ''^' ^ '*' " — *~5<- — • 



^AMP AND FIELD, 



i35 



INTERESTINO W^AR RELIC. 
A Stvord Iteturned to its Owner After Twenty-Two Years, 



/^;Y^ EAR the close of the battle of 
^/V Ball's Bluff, October, 21, 1861, 
c5 1st Lieut. J. Evarts Greene of 
the 15th Mass., found himself sur- 
rounded by the enemy so that to fight 
longer Avas useless, and to run away 
in)possible. At this moment a gray 
coated gentlemen stepped forward, and, 
raising his cap courteously, said: "I 
am Captain Singleton of the loth Miss. 
I nuist ask you to surrender." Mr. 
Greene returned the salute, mentioned 
his name and rank, and handed Cap- 
tain Singleton his sword. Two young 
men of Captain Singleton's company 
were then directed to take Lieutenant 
Greene to the rear. They escorted him 
to Leesburg, about four miles distant, 
chatting pleasantly by tiie way, for 
they were very obliging and friendly 
young fellows, and some hours later all 
the pi'isouers taken that day started 
from Leesburg for Centreville under a 
guard commanded by Captain Single- 
ton, who showed to tliem all possible 
civility and kindness while they were 
under his care. On arriving at Centre- 
ville he turned over his prisoners to 
the officer designated by General Beau- 
regard to receive them, and they saw 
him no more. Captain Singleton had 
been a member of Congress for three 
terms before the war. Soon after this 
time he retired from the army and en- 
tered the Confederate Congress. AVhen 
Mississippi was thought to be suf- 
ficiently reconstructed to be entitled 
again to representation in the national 
government, Captain Singleton, or 
Hon. Otho R. Singleton as he should 
now be called, was elected to the House 



of Representatives, and has been re- 
elected to successive Congresses since. 
Mr. Greene has had some correspond- 
ence with him, and, when visiting 
Washington in January last, had a 
most agreeable interview with his 
former captor, who seemed inclined to 
make up by the warmth of his pi-esent 
friendship for the conditions of formal 
enmity under which they had first met. 
Of course the circumstances of their 
meeting were recalled, and Mr. Single- 
ton expressed his intention to return 
the sword which Mr. Greene had sur- 
rendered more than twenty-one years 
ago. On Tuesday the sword arrived 
by express addressed to Senator Hoar, 
who had already received the following 
letter : — 

'WASHI^•GTO^^ D. C, March 24, 1S83. 
Hon. George F. Hoab:— 

My Dear Sir: — I hare taken the liberty of 
sending to your address by express today a 
United States sword belonging to Major Greene, 
who visited you at Washington the past winter. 
I failed to obtain his address when here, and 
beg to trouble you to see that he gets it. This 
sword was surrendered to nie by Major Greene, 
immediately after the battle of Ball's BlulT, in 
Virginia. My earnest desire has ever been to 
return it to its owner, and assure him of my 
great respect for him as a citizen and soldier. 

Most truly yours, O K. Singlizton. 

Mr. Singleton has been kind enough to 
promote Captain Greene one grade, but 
otherwise his letter calls for no further 
remark. The sword has suffered no 
damage, and is entirely fit for further 
S'ervice, but its owner hopes that it 
will never be drawn on another battle 
field. Tt will not, however, be beaten 
into a ploughshare, nor worked up into 
steel pens. 



A TOWN OF RUINS. 



How ^ Harper's * Ferry ^^^ and ^ its * Romantic ^^ Surroundings * Now * Look. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF THE VALLEY. 




Antietam from Bolivar Heights.— Kernstoivn and Cedar Creek, 

By C. H. H. 

.z^T^^ 

• Harper's Ferry, July 15, 1886. 

ERY desolate is the appearance of this 
town at the present time. It is like a 
country cemetery with half the grave- 
stones knocked down. It is a town of 
ruins. Everything is in decay. Every- 
body is asleep. In years past the roar of artillery about the 
mountain peaks kept things in a tolerably lively state. In 
these days the nearest approach to a warlike sound is the 
occasional crack of the sportsman's rifle. The puffing of an 
engine is about the only noise which awakens the echoes. 
The only excitement is when the express trains from Wash- 
ington draw up to the little depot. Then every boy in town 
swarms upon the unsuspecting traveler like a hive of bees 
and insists upon disposing of a basket of cherries and hard- 
boiled eggs and indigestible pies. In a moment more the train 
scoots up the bank of the Potomac and threads its way through 
the mountains to the west, or follows along the Shenandoah 
and rushes up the fertile valley of Virginia, and Harper's Ferry 
sinks back into its sleepy state and waits for something else to 
turn up. There is not another such tumble-down place on the 
earth. The main street runs up hill at an angle of forty-five 



CAMP AND FIELD. 537 

degrees. It is a good deal like climbing a ladder to go up it. 
One house is built almost upon the roof of another. At least 
that seemed to be the idea when the place was laid out, but now 
about one house in every possible five has its side blown out or 
its roof caved in, or its underpinning completely knocked away, 
;.\nd when a house begins to go its end is near, for no one ever 
ihinks of repairing damages. It requires a pretty sure-footed 
horse to climb a street, and as for sidewalks — well, there may 
be some, but I haven't seen any. There hasn't been energy 
enough in town even to keep the vandals away. All the senti- 
ment of the thing is taken away when one reads on the side 
of the historic landmark, Jefferson's Rock, the wretchedly 
scrawled advertisement of a nasty cigarette. 

From the Top of Bolivar Heights. 

But ruin and decay cannot detract from the beautiful scenery, 
and they only add to the interest of the many stories of the 
war. Old John Brown's fort looks as if it had had a bad attack 
of ague, the old arsenal is in ruins; but no one passes them by if 
he knows it. Neither the fort nor the arsenal was here when 
President Jefferson climbed up Bolivar Heights, but his eyes 
flashed upon the same grand scenery that one can see to-day. 
He told everybody he met that to stand on the top of Bolivar 
was worth a trip across the Atlantic. There are those who 
come to Harper's Ferry in these days who are not disposed to 
contradict him. Three great states terminate their boundaries 
in three huge mountains. When the thunder rolls and the 
lightning plays about their peaks they seem to hurl defiance at 
each other. The Potomac, dividing Maryland and West Vir- 
ginia, and the Shenandoah, separating West Virginia from the 
Old Dominion, mingle their waters under the long bridge, and 
piercing the very heart of the Blue Ridge flow on to the sea. 
They look very peaceable just now, flowing over their rocky 
beds, but when the rains of early spring melt the snovv^ and it 
rushes down the mountain sides the peaceful rivers become 
mighty torrents almost without warning and nothing can with- 
stand them. Mountains line the side of the united rivers as far 
as the eye can reach, while to the west high walls soon shut out 
from view the winding Potomac. Behind lies the great valley 
of Virginia, where, as the fortunes of war changed, opposing 
armies chased each other, bent only on death and destruction. 



538 CAMP AND FIELD. 

The valley is one great battle field. From Harper's Ferry to 
Staunton many of the bloodiest battles of the rebellion were 
fought, and thousands of the sons of Virginia lie buried under 
the sod by the side of the dead of the Northern armies. 

South Mountain and Antietam. 

From Bolivar some of the battle fields can easily be picked 
out. In fact there was fighting on this very height. In Sep- 
tember, 18G2, Colonel White held Harper s Ferry, and he had 
something like eleven thousand men to help him do it. Stone- 
wall Jackson, on the way to meet Lee, captured it. While the 
fight was raging on Bolivar, Lee was engaged with McClellan 
at South Mountain. It was at South Mountain where a man 
from Ohio named Hayes was wounded. Lee fell back to Sharps- 
burg, and, from Bolivar, Jackson saw the smoke of Antietam, 
only ten miles away. He joined Lee and saved his army from 
being pretty effectually blotted out, and Lee managed to escape 
to Winchester. Every inch of land between Harper's Ferry 
and Winchester has been trodden under foot many a time by 
marching men. There is no more interesting point in the val- 
ley than this latter town. Rich in its memories of Washington 
it was knocked about like a shuttlecock between "Feds" and 
" Rebs." On an eminence back of the town are two cemeteries, 
mute witnesses of strife and carnage. In the Union Cemetery 
the Stars and Stripes rise and fall above the graves of 4,400 
dead. Keeper Druin keeps the grass closely shaven and the 
flowers in full bloom; but even he cannot tell the names of 
more than half the heroes who rest under the sod. The rest be- 
long to that great army of the unknown. Just across a narrow 
path lie the heroes of the opposing forces. They have no mar- 
ble slabs at their heads, but their slumber is just as peaceful. 
The granite shaft made in Philadelphia and erected here three 
or four years ago is a lasting monument to the unrecorded dead 
of the Stonewall Cemetery. 

Any one who cares to do so can find in Winchester all sorts 
of anecdotes of the war. Ladies can tell of the part they 
played in nursing the wounded. Men can tell of the incessant 
tramp of marching feet and of many a narrow escape. But 
four miles away is Kernstown. where, in the winter of 1861, 
Shields and Stonewall Jackson came together and where the 
Confederate general lost his grip and was forced up the valley. 

33 



CAMP AND P'lELI). 539 

There are people, too, who remember Sheridan's famous ride to 
Cedar Creek, where Jubal Early had routed General Emory 
and was having everything his own way until Sheridan snatched 
victory from the very jaws of defeat. I asked an old colored 
man out on the Kernstown road the other day — a decrepit old 
darkey, who said he had seen Sheridan goby — how the general 
looked. 

" Look I " exclaimed the old man. "Look! Wh}', he didn't 
look nohow. I done reckon he didn't have no time to look. 
He done went by so fas' dat he jes' took in fences "n walls. 
Bless yo' heart, boss, he didn't have no time to stop for no road 
even." 

Still further up the valley is New Market, where Breckinridge 
defeated Sigel, although his army was inferior in numbers. 
Twenty miles further on is Harrisonburg, rich in the memory 
of Ashby and of Cross Keys. Not far from Harrisonburg Ashby 
fell during a charge of the Pennsylvania Bucktails. 

Sentiment in tlie Valley. 

Probably there is more feeling over the war in the Valley of 
Virginia than in any other part of the South. It is natural. In 
no other place were the results of the war so terrible. The val- 
ley was a continual battle ground. Lives were taken and 
property was destroyed, and much of it, too, without right or 
reason. People who saw their homes burned before their 
eyes cannot forget it. The people still believe in Lee and 
Stonewall Jackson, and when Randolph Tucker went to Win- 
chester, and, at the commencement at the academy there, made 
some rather remarkable statements in the way of eulogy, he 
was roundly applauded. It was in poor taste, and a few of the 
Northern boys in the academy couldn't stand it and left the 
hall; but Tucker isn't much of a statesman, as statesmen go. 
and he went right on just the same. The people applauded him 
because he lauded Lee and Jackson to the skies. Yet a little 
while later a Pennsylvania fire company visited town and the 
" Yankees " were received with open arms. Nothing was too 
good for them and every building was decorated and at night 
every window was illuminated. Queer, isn't it? 

The fact is, the valley people have a deep feeling for their 
dead sons and destroyed property. They cannot forgive the 
North for this in their hearts, but it is not often that they allow 



540 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



their sentiments to overcome them. They have a valley rich 
and fertile and are gradually recovering what they lost. In- 
stead of a battle field the Valley of Virginia has been changed 
to an immense summer resort. Numerous springs and summer 
hotels dot the mountain sides and there is no more imposing 
mountain scenery anywhere. 



GRANT PROMOTED THEM. 

Soldiers Who Would Obey Even if Tliejj Shot Tlieiv General. 

By "SOLDIER SAM." 



'HILE we were down on the Mis- 
'jl'/aVP sissippi, a big barge loaded with 
bombs and gunpowder was ly- 
ing alongside the wharf. Grant had 
given orders that no one should smoke 
on board that barge. T suppose the 
old tub had thousands of dollars' worth 
of powder under h'er decks. So the 
corporal sent a guard there, and or- 
dered him to shoot the first man who 
should cross the plank with a lighted 
pipe or cigar. Well, when the word 
got abroad we kept away, for we knew 
that the order meant business. One day 
when I was off duty General Grant rode 
up on his horse. He wore a big blouse 
and a slouch hat. He had no star, no 
side-arms. We all knew him without 
the aid of trmkets. 

" Is that the powderboat ? " he asked. 

I told him it was. 

He looked at me sharply over a red-hot 
cigar, and said : " I'll go on board, then." 

I knew he'd never take that cigar 
out of his mouth except to eat or sleep, 
so I said : " General, if you walk across 
that plank smoking the sentry will 
.shoot you." 

He saw that I was in earnest, but he 
said : " Don't you suppose he knows me?" 

"Of course he does, general," I re- 
plied ; " but he's been ordered to shoot 
the first man caught smokinij: on that 



barge, and he'll do it. That's the kind 
of chap he is." 

Grant looked rather anmsed. I 
reckon he never intended to go near 
the old barge. lie just wheeled his 
horse about and away he went. 

That evening I told the sentry all 
about the talk. The next morning he 
and the corporal wei'e ordered up to the 
general's headquarters. The sentry 
was a black man, but when he heard 
that Grant wanted to see him he was 
rather white. He went up. 

" Can you read ? " asked Grant. 

" No, sail ; I nebber had no chance 
to la'n." 

" Do you always know me when you 
see me ? " 

"Yes, sail." 

"Suppose I had gone on board that 
powderboat with a lighted cigar, what 
would you have done? " 

" Shot you, sail." 

" But I'm your general I " said Grant. 

" Yes, sah ; and we jes' obeys yo' 
orders," said the senti-y. 

Grant looked the men all over. The 
corporal was trembling, and the sentry 
was actually pale ; but both were as 
firm as rocks. At last the general re- 
laxed. " Well, sir," he said to the 
negro, " we'll make you a corporal, and 
this other man shall be a sergeant. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 541 

-^PROMOTBD.^V-- 

FRANK N. SCOTT. 



C^ROM field and fortress, battlement But, peace restored, his sword he 

Q., and spar, sheathed again, 

'^^ Droops the proud ensign free- And sought the good of those who 

doni loves so well, felt his blows. 

While on the listening air, from near ^, , ,. ^ , ij; • j 

° Oh,soldier tearless, conqueror and inend, 

Oh, statesman, honored throughout 
In solemn cadence tolls the funeral „ ,, ,, 

all the earth. 

Oh, father loving and beloved, we bend 

rr.1 1 ■ A i-u ^ ^m^A Amono; the saddened mourners round 

The boonnng cannon and the muined » 

J thv hearth, 

drum -^ 

In fitting measm-e mourn the soldier Though here the wearied body resting 

brave, lies, 

Who faced the screaming shell and bul- The final battle fought, the victory 

lets' hum, won, 

His country's grand integrity to save. Ah, doubt it not, above the drooping 

skies 

The busy thronging thoroughfares are His soul, o'er fields celestial, marches 

clad on. 

In soniber-hued habiliments of grief ; ^ j i i^i i • u j. j u 

° ' On grander battle plams he stands, who 
A mourning nation, sorrowing and sad. 



Bends in affliction o'er her fallen 
chief. 



erst 
Held all our patriot legions in his 
hand, 

From distant nations, cabled in the He watched the gathering thunders 
deeps ^^ ^'^^y ^^"'^* 

On lightning wings, flash words of And scattered desolation o'er the land. 

sympathy ; Oh, severed sisters of the North and 

A waiting universe its vigil keeps. South 

AVhere sleeps the champion of liberty. Strike hands in amity above the 

sacred bier ; 
No truer patriot ever yet was fired ^^^^ ^^^ monitions of that death-closed 

By holy zeal to plead his country's month 

^^^^^^ ' Xor let one jarring discord pain his ear. 
At her command, his sword flashed out, 

inspired Oh, life heroic, triumphing o'er death ; 

By Union, liberty, and sacred laws. Oh, God-like soul, which pain could 

not cast down, 

He bore her flag o'er many a sanguined To latest time be freedom's shibboleth, 

plain, The name thy deeds have gilded with 

And visited destruction on her foes, renown. 



•Ss ^1 ^©rificsatioFi # ©f ^ e[ # ©recam. 

Narrated by D. W. WARE, Company H, I 0th Vt. Vols. (Springfield, Mass.)- 




|HILE encamped in front of Petersburg we lay near Fort 
Fisher. I had three tentmates, Sergt. E. T. Johnson, 
Joseph A. Smith, and John Smith. John Smith was 
^Sif^ a quiet Irishman, with dry, humorous wit, the trio mak- 
ing a very pleasant set of mates, and many evenings have 
we passed in soldier life in pleasant converse together. Joseph 
had been home on a sick furlough, and while in hospital he be- 
came acquainted with a young lady, and perhaps was engaged 
when he returned to the front, which was but a few days pre- 
vious to what I am about to relate. 

On the morning of the 25th of March, *G5, our regiment, the 
10th Vt., were detailed for picket. We had been on the picket 
line but a short time when Joe Smith came to me and said he 
had a dream that troubled him, and wished to relate it; so we 
sat down, and he said he dreamed we were going to advance 
the picket line; we should have a hard fight, and that he and 
John would be killed, but I should get through safe. I laughed 
at him and told him there was no indication of an engagement, 
and he must not trouble himself about dreams, but he continued 
and said he wanted I should pack his things and send them 
home, designating the disposition of the articles, particularly a 
ring he wore. While talking, what should we see but Colonel 
Damon coming through the main line on horseback, towards 
ourline. Says Joe, "There, Dan, that is just as I dreamed." The 
colonel came down and told us we must take the rebel picket 
line in our front, but go no further; to pack up carefully so the 
rebs would not see us, and at a signal from Fort Fisher, charge 
the line. Joe was quite sad and told me to keep near him. We 
got the order to go. and started through an open field, had not 
gone more than twentj^-five rods before the rebs opened on us 
and the first volley Joe fell, shot through the groin, severing the 
main artery. As I seized him the blood spurted all over me, 



CAM J' AND FIELD. 543 

and I could not stop it, the ball passing clear through him pro- 
ducing a wound that must soon end in death. He lingered a 
short time with his head resting in my arms, telling me to be 
sure to send his effects home as before requested. Meantime 
the troops not having started with our regiment, we were 
ordered back, but I remained out in the open field until Joe 
breathed his last — being safe from the enemy's fire while caring 
for a wounded comrade. I took the ring from the dead soldier s 
finger and made a lively retreat down the hill through a shower 
of bullets, to the right, into a swamp, thinking to get out of 
range. I found John Smith behind a stump all in a heap. Says 
I, " Why don't you fall back? " " In faith I'll wait until they come 
again and save so much travel. " Just then five or six rebs fired 
at the sound of our voices; one ball cut my sleeve from my elbow 
to wrist, and one cut a furrow through the top of John's head, 
killing him almost instantly. The dream was verified. I was 
safe thus far. I fell back to the line, re-enforcements came to 
our aid and we again charged and captured the line with all the 
men as prisoners, which was held until the fall of Petersburg. 
On my return to camp we buried our comrades, and forwarded 
the articles as directed. 

't>=; : — =; t ' 

First Recognition of Colored Troops as 
Eqnals by the Confederate Army. 

'OP' HP] first official recognition of negro 
troops as equals, by the rebels, was 
in December, 1863, when a flag of truce 
borne by Maj. John C. Calhoun, a 
grandson of John C. Calhoun, was 
received at Hilton Head, by Major 
Trowbridge of the 1st S. C. Negro 
Regt. 

J— «I 



First Hussar Regiment, Trenton, N.J. SUMNER AND LINCOLN. 



>J<HE first Hussar regiment raised in (gENATOR SUMNER was the first 
the country for real service in the person to urge upon President Lin- 
war was organized at Trenton, N. J., coin to make public the Confiecatiou 
by Col. Andrew J. Morrison. Proclamation. 



Narrow Escape of a Traitor. 



A DRUM-HEAD COURT-MARTIAL THAT WAS HELD IN OLD LIBBY. 



e^*^\\V\NX\\V^\X\\'VNSV\\'VC>."V\\X.V.i 



X^ XwXWXWVXVV^WXWVWXvWVCW 



lF the six officers of the 
regular army who found 
themselves in Libby Pris- 
on in 1863-4, one was a fine 
looking colonel from Indiana — 
a big bodied, big brained, big 
hearted fellow, chock-full of en- 
ergy. He worked like a steam 
engine until he got out of Libby. 
Once he found his tunnel too 
small for his burly form; once 
he was checked at the outer 
end of it by two or three armed 
Confederate soldiers, who had 
been quietly waiting for him; 
again a clever ruse was de- 
tected just as he got to the 
middle of the gate, and so it 
went, until he had made half a 
dozen attempts. But he never 
gave up, and finally got out, 
and is now a prosperous citizen 
of Indianapolis, a trifle stouter 
than when he was in Libby, 
and a good deal richer, but 
otherwise unchanged. After 
two or three attempts to get 
out of Libby had failed, he be- 
gan to suspect that his failures 
were the result of treachery in 



the prisoners' camp. Ex^ 
change, like kissing, went by 
favor. The colonel, after think- 
ing each failure over, came to 
the conclusion that some poor 
devil was selling his manhood 
for a mess of pottage — curry- 
ing the favor which would 
"exchange" him to his home 
by betraying the plans of his 
companions in arms to the 
enemy. He looked about him 
for the man. Cautious in- 
quiries at length gave him such 
information as prompted him 
to say to each of the five other 
regular army officers: "Meet 
me at such a spot at midnight. 
I have found the traitor. We 
will court - martial him to- 
night." At midnight the six 
men met in a dark corner, and, 
in low, whispering voices, or- 
ganized a drum-head court-mar- 
tial. The colonel presented the 
name of the suspect, and then 
his proofs. In the ballot that 
followed, each of the six voted 
"•guilty." "Now," said the 
colonel, "this is not a farce. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



545 



We must vote a sentence, and 
then we must execute it." 
"Very well," said the next 
man. "Well," said the colo- 
nel, " I vote for death. The 
wretch deserves it." "So do 
I," said the next, and so on 
down to the sixth — a Pennsyl- 
vania major. He knew the 
culprit — a Pennsylvanian, like 
himself — better than the rest. 
He knew that he was quite ca- 
pable of the crime charged 
against him. He had no doubt 
of his guilt. He wanted to see 
him punished. He said all this 
to the other members of the 
court, and then he added: 
"But, you know, we are not a 
legal court-martial. We have 
no authority to act — certainly 
no authority to kill. We may 
sift the evidence presented 
against a man for our own sat- 
isfaction, but we cannot sen- 
tence, much less kill him. The 
most we can do is to prefer 
charges against him to the 
War Department. We can't 
kill him — " Suddenly inter- 
rupting himself, he said: "Col- 
onel, what's that in your 
hand?" "The rope," said the 
colonel, grimly; " I've been 
plaiting it as we talked," and 
he passed it around. He had 
taken an old shirt, torn it into 
narrow strips, and woven it 
into something that looked like 
a rope. " Now, major," he 
said, when it was handed back 



to him, " what you have said is 
all very well. It does credit to 
your heart as well as to your 
head. But you're outvoted; 
the majority are against you. 
The sentence of the court is 
that the scoundrel shall die, 
and die he will this minute, for 
I'll kill him myself. Come, 
captain," he said to the brawny 
Irishman next to him, "you 
and I will settle the rascal." 
"Why, you wouldn't strangle 
him in his sleep, would you?" 
asked the major, also on his 
feet as the others started to- 
ward the sleeping form of the 
traitor. " Certainly," whis- 
pered the colonel, " why not? 
He can't pray, and we can't 
have any noise." " You never 
will," said the major, firmly, 
getting in front of the colonel; 
"I won't let you; you'll have 
to kill me first. I won't stand 
by and see you stain your 
honest hands with his dishonest 
blood in such a way as that. 
Why, man, it would be a mur- 
der. You would be a mur- 
derer. I won't permit it." 
Gliding softly before the rest, 
he reached the sleeping man 
and sat down beside his head. 
There he sat till the gray morn- 
ing came stealing in through 
the chilly atmosphere. Long 
before that time the colonel 
and his companions, baffled 
and disgusted, had stolen away 
to their sleeping places, carry- 



546 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



ing the plaited rope with them. 
As soon as the major could see 
the traitor's face in the dim 
light of the dawn, he waked 
him and told him all that had 
occurred. " Now, sir," he said, 
sternly, '' I saved your life last 
night, although I believed you 
worthy of death. I won't do 
it again. I saved your life for 
my sake, not for yours. My 
advice is that as soon as the 
guard comes in for roll-call you 
get out of Libby, and as soon 
as you get to Washington get 
out of the army. If you're in 
the army Avhen I get out I'll 
prefer charges against you, and 
if I meet you I'll kill you." 



Trembling with excitement, the 
wretch, without a word of de- 
nial or palliation, got up, and, 
as soon as the guard came in, 
got out. The stalwart six for- 
warded charges against him 
from Libby. When they got 
out of prison they found him 
out of the army, so they 
dropped the matter. The trai- 
tor is in the army now, re-in- 
stated by act of Congress, I 
believe; but the major who 
promised to kill him on sight 
is under the green sod of the 
prairie. Still, the colonel 
would make things lively for 
the traitor if they met face to 
face. 



THK KIOHTPti KANSAS. 



CHAPLAIN J. PAULSON. 



tNCE more we meet — but not as 
when 
With youth and hope we marched 
away, 
A thousand men we mustered then — 
A feeble remnant here to-day. 

Our banner flashed in waves of light, 
O'er serried colunms, brave and strong, 

While thousands gathered to the sight, 
With cheers of parting, loud and long. 

The merry jest and laugh went round, 

Our toils and hardships to beguile, 
As with the soul of "Old John 
Brown," 
We tramped through many a weary 
mile. 



We tramped and fought, and fought 
and tramped, 
War's fierce tide surging to and fro. 
O'er mountain height and dismal 
swamp, 
Until the grand concluding blow. 

But now, by conflict torn and marred. 
Our flags hang on the silent wall, 

And we, gray-haired and battle-scarred, 
The struggles of the past recall. 

For suffering binds with links of steel 
The souls that death together braved, 

And hearts, with tender memories fill, 
For those whose blood the Nation 
saved. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



547 



Our comrades of those troubled years, 
Who sleep beneath the silent sod, 

Who yielding not to foes or fears, 
Were true to country and to God, 

Wasting, as wastes the crumbling I'ock, 
Work by exposure, want, and toil. 

Falling in battle's deadly shock. 

But dying with the conqueror's smile — 

For them the camp-fire burns no more. 
Nor morning reveille shall wake ; 

The bugle's blast, nor cannon's roar, 
Shall never more their slumbers 
break. 

Their dust is scattered far and wide 
O'er battle fields their valor won, 

'Neath Alabama's mountain side, 
And Georgia's fervid Southern sun ; 

Kentucky's dark and bloody ground 
Has closed upon the matily breast. 

And Tennessee a place has found 
For many a comrade's final rest ; 



Our Western households mourn the loss. 
Of lovers, sons, and brothers slain ; 

Yet joy relieves the bitter cross — 
They died, but perished not in vain ! 

The Union banner floats supreme 
O'er every spot their feet have 
pressed. 

And glory crowns the patriot's dream — 
A land united and at rest ! 

Thus Kansas gave, in faith sublime, 
The life bloom of her children free. 

While from it springs through after 
time 
The flower and fruit of liberty. 

But while we drop the silent tear 
In memory of our comrades gone, 

A grateful country greets us here. 
And hails our work as nobly done. 

Then let the tale from age to age 
Be told with varied speech and style, 

In poet's song, on history's page, 
And art's proud monumental pile. 



Down by the Gulf Stream's cypress The 
gloom, 
Where mosses gray, funereal wave ; 
Or where magnolias blend perfume 
With orange blooms above their 
grave. 



parting comes — the conqueror. 
Death, 
Lays prostrate both the brave and 
strong, 
Bu-t while the Union stands, the Eighth 
Shall live in story and in song. 



A SAILOR'S PRAYER. 



§N board a gunboat in the Missis- 
sippi squadron, just as the vessel 
was going into action, a gilded officer 
found a sailor on his knees, and sneer- 
ingly inquired if he was afraid. 

" No," he responded, " I was praying." 



" Praying for what? " 

" Praying," said the sailor, with the 
utmost composure, " that the enemy's 
bullets may be distributed the same 
way the prize money is, principally 
among the officers." 



).'^^l^g' 



548 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



THE FIRST TO DIE FOR THE CONFEDERACY. 



The Beardless Boy who Fell in the Battle of Big Bethel. 

By S. R. WKIGHX. 



O^HE first soldier who died 
4\^ while in the service of 
'u^><' the Southern States was 
a tailor from Augusta, Ga., 
who died in April, 1861, and 
the first soldier killed in battle 
was a beardless boy not twenty 
years old, from North Carolina, 
in May,' 1861. This was the 
first blood shed in the Southern 
cause. There were two 1st 
Georgia regiments which went 
to the war in April, 1861 — the 
1st Regulars, who were sent to 
Savannah, and the 1st Vols., 
who were ordered to Pensa- 
cola under Colonel Ramsay, 
from Augusta. There were 
two companies from Augusta, 
Ga., in this regiment — one of 
boys just from school, and one 
of older citizens of Augusta. 
In the latter company was a 
tailor, who in a frolic caught 
and put in his bosom a garter, 
or, as sometimes called, a 
thunder-and-lightning snake. 
There is a variety of this spe- 
cies of serpent — some whose 
bite is deadly, and others who 



are not at all poisonous. The 
soldier made a mistake, as there 
is but very little difference in 
their looks. Whilst going 
around with the snake in his 
bosom a crowd of his fellow- 
soldiers gathered around, and 
in a spirit of bravado he took 
it out and provoked the reptile 
until it bit him on the back of 
his hand, from which he died 
very soon. The snake was 
killed, taken to Augusta, and 
preserved in alcohol. Being in 
that city a few months after- 
wards I saw the reptile, which 
was two feet long and about 
the size of a child's finger. All 
the members of the 1st Ga. 
Regt. will recollect this cir- 
cumstance. 

The first soldier killed in bat- 
tle on the Southern side was at 
Big Bethel Church, about fifty 
miles from Gut Town, Va. 
Benjamin Butler had landed 
the first Yankee troops in Vir- 
ginia in May, 1861, and was 
met by a Virginia regiment at 
the church named. General 



CAMP AND FIi^LD 



149 



Wadsworth, of Connecticut, 
was in immediate command, 
and upon seeing the Southern 
troops advancing on him 
jumped upon a log, waved his 
sword over his head, and or- 
dered his men to fire. They 
did so, and the North Carolina 
boy, who was a volunteer in 
the Virginia regiment, fell 
dead, the only one killed on 
our side. Immediately our 
men returned the fire, shoot- 
ing the general from the log, 
and his soldiers left the field. 
The blood of these two men, one 
on each side, was the first shed 



in the war, except that of the 
men of the Massachusetts regi- 
ment who were killed by a mob 
in Baltimore, Md. I was with 
my regiment in July, 1861, and 
visited the cemetery in Rich- 
mond, Va., and stood over the 
grave, at the head of which 
was a board bearing this in- 
scription (the name I have for- 
gotten): "From North Caro- 
lina, the First Soldier Killed in 
the War Between the North 
and South." Any of the old 
soldiers of the 16th Ga. Regt. 
will recollect the circumstances 
of this, the first battle of the war. 



•*->$^^^>^ 



The First Confiscation Act. 



FIRST MEDALS OF HONOR. 



THE first case under the confiscation 
act came up July 2-i, 1863. It was 
tiiat of the property of Dr. Garnett, 
a son-in-law of Henry A. Wise. 



An Officer who Meant Business. 



TjpIIE first officer to resign liis posi- 
tion in the United States army 
for the purpose of participating in the 
rebellion, was Wni. H. T. Walker, of 
Georgia, who subsequently became a 
major-general, and was killed in the 
battle Ijefore Atlanta, July 22, 1864, 



T 



HE first medals of honor awaided 
by the War Department were given 
to members of the 2d, 21st, and 33d 
Ohio Regts. 



LONGEST PONTOON BRIDGE. 



■♦^HE longest pontoon bridge ever 
constructed in this country, was 
built by Co. F, loth N. Y. Vols. It ex- 
tended across the Chickahominy, and 
was used on the occasion of McClel- 
lan's withdrawing his troops from Har- 
rison's Landing. 



^ 



j;®-^^ 



P^S-^I.^f 



Some Gallant Deeds of Brave Men. 




Instances of Heroism which the Gunner's Act at Alexandria Calls Up- 



ONOR to the brave gunner on board the Brit- 
ish man-of-war at Alexandria who picked up 
a shell with a burning fuse and immersed it 
in a bucket of water. This was a courage- 
ous act, but it was not ''more gallant than 
anything of the sort ever before chronicled." 
During our own war for the Union hundreds 
of cases as deserving of mention occurred. 

At Stene river, when Croft's brigade of Palmer's division 
was pursuing the routed rebels on the 2d of January, they 
came suddenly on a reserve battery that opened on them with 
surprising fury. The men were ordered to lie down, and 
dropped in the soft mud of a corn-field. The rebel artillerymen 
had the range, however, and poured shot and shell into the ad- 
vance line in a way that tore some unfortunates in pieces and 
covered nearly every one with mud. In the midst of the ter- 
rific fusillade a shell struck between two men lying flat on the 
ground so near to their heads as to stun both. Dozens of men, 
the bravest there, closed their eyes in anticipation of the terri- 
ble scene that would follow the explosion. But one of the sol- 
diers at whose shoulder the smoking shell had struck, digging 
up a handful of mud, held it aloft for a moment while he said 
coolly: "Ten to one, boys, she don't bust," and then with a 
sort of gleeful agility he brought his great wad of mud down 
on the shell smoking in the shallow hole, and " she didn't bust." 
No one thought George Hunt, of Co. C, 1st Ky. Inf., a hero 
for doing that, but possibly he ranked as high as the courageous 
gunner on the Alexandra. 

Another case: When Sherman was getting ready for his 
move on Atlanta great quantities of ammunition were stored 
in the railroad sheds at Resaca. One day, in the midst of a 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



551 



thunder-storm that dismantled the camp, the ammunition 
building was struck by lightning. Hundreds of the bravest 
soldiers ran blindly away as they saw the boxes of shell thrown 
about, saw the guards drop as if shot, and saw smoke issuing 
from the top of the great pile of explosives. But one man, 
clear-eyed and cool-headed, saw that the smoke came from tow 
in which the shells were packed and, climbing to the top, seized 
the burning mass, and holding it up shouted: "All right, 
boys; no fireworks this time." His intrepidity and alertness 
saved the ammunition and possibly many lives, and his record 
should be kept as green as that of the gallant gunner of the 
Alexandra. 



iM'^ 



^y-i-~'2S^ 



GRANT'S SENTENCE UPON LIEUTENANT WICKFIELD, 



Tfie Onlif Joke Erer Known to have been Perpetrated by the 
Uistinf/Hished Author. 



n ^c^HEN Grant was a brig- 
~ adier in southwest 




Missouri, he com- 
manded an expedition against 
Jeff. Thompson, in northern 
Arkansas. His command 
had marched for two days 
through a country almost bar- 
ren of subsistence, and as offi- 
cers, unlike the men in the 
ranks, generally depended on 
the country for their supplies, 
there were many empty stom- 
achs among them. Lieutenant 
Wickfield, of an Indiana cav- 
alry regiment, commanded the 
advance guard. About noon 
on the third day he arrived at 



a neat farm house at which he 
judged something fit to eat 
might be had. Grant's fame 
had already gone out in that 
country, and our lieutenant 
thought to better his chances 
by passing himself and com- 
panions as the general and his 
staff. Assuming an austere 
demeanor, he announced him- 
self as Brigadier - General 
Grant, and ordered dinner to 
be served. The awe-struck in- 
mates obeyed, and presently 
the adventurers had set before 
them the best the house af- 
forded. Everything was de- 
voured, and payment having 



552 



CAMP AND FIELD 



been declined, Wickfield and 
his men rode on. Towards 
night Grant, in a famished con- 
dition, alighted at the same 
house and modestly inquired if 
he could have a meal cooked. 

" No," said a female in a 
shrill voice, " General Grant 
and his staff have just been 
here and eaten everything in 
the house except one pumpkin 
pie.*' 

" Humph," murmured Grant. 
" What is your name?" 

"■Selvidge," replied the wo- 
man. 

When the camping ground 
had been selected that evening, 
and the men were busy prepar- 
ing their bivouac, suddenly the 
order rang through all the 
camp, " Fall in! " 

Instantly all were under arms 
and in rank, breathlessly await- 
ing an attack from the enemy, 
which was supposed to be the 



occasion of the sudden call to 
arms. Instead of this the ad- 
jutant of each regiment stepped 
to the front and read the fol- 
lowing order, which is believed 
to be the only joke ever perpe- 
trated by its distinguished au- 
thor. 

Headquarters, Army in the Field, 
Special Order, No. . 

Lieutenant Wickfield, of the 

Indiana cavalry, having this day eaten 
everything in Mr.s. Selvidge's house, 
at the crossing of the Ironton, Poca- 
hontas, Black River, and Cape Girar- 
deau roads, except one pumpkin pie, he 
is hereby ordered to return with an 
escort of one hundred men and eat 
that pie also. 

U. S. Grant, 

Brif/adier-General Commanding. 

Grant's orders were law, and 
there was nothing to do but for 
the lieutenant to obey, which 
he did literally amid the cheers 
of his escort. 




•zS^ 



PARLIAMENT INVESTIGATION. 



A LOYAL OATALRY OFFICER. 



'Tip'IIE first motion made in Parliament 
for an investigation into the legality 
of the sailing of the Alabama, Florida, 
and other privateers, vpas made by Mr. 
J. Shaw Lefevre, member of Reading, 
son of the late speaker. 



gOLONEL B. T. DAVIS, 8th N. Y. 

Cavalry, killed at Beverly Ford in 
June, 1863, was a Mississippian, and is 
said to have been the only cavalry 
officer of Southern birth in the Union 
army. 



'fie ® ^ 



^u ® 



arrior. 



MAJOR MULDOON'S DESCRIPTION OF THE GUN-SHY SOLDIER IN BATTLE. 



It Isn^t Stveet to Die for One^s Cou}ktry.—The Gun" Shy 
3Ian ''s Epitaph . 

By MAJ. H. A. MUI-DOON. 



V^-VV^ANWWVWXV^ 



: \X\X\\V«\X'v\XN\X\XXX\X\\XV 







V 

V.V. 




.0 much has been writ- 
ten concerning- battle- 
fiekl courage that the 
heavy artillery ap- 
proaches the subject with 
much trepidation. 

Beyond all question, if wo 
had to rely solely on the book 
and newspaper accounts of 
field fighting we should be 
forced very close to the con- 
clusion that all soldiers are 
heroes and that a man's nat- 
ure radically changes as soon 
as he puts on a uniform and takes up a musket. 

Certainly man is pugnacious by nature, and most men are 
courageous. 

But war — especially the kind of war they got up down South 
— is not the normal condition of the average citizen, and we 
rather force conclusions when we assume that the cordwainer, 
the pickle-peddler, the lawyer, and the layman will stay at the 
front on his courage, with no other restraining influence. 

Indeed, the popular notion as to the amount and kind of 
courage the soldier displays on the battle field is not altogether 
correct. This will seem enough if you will but recall that one 
knows very little about war until one has been shot at by many. 

Sitting by a comfortable fire in a room with no draft, with 
your slippers on, with your consoling pipe and such other lux- 
uries as your purse and tastes may command (I bar none), it 
is not difficult to enthuse into a heap of patriotism over battles 
as thev are recorded in the books. 



554 CAMP AND FIELD, 

Just, my bird-shooting reader, as there are in these United 
States upwards of two millions of voters who can kill ninety- 
eight out of a hundred ruffled grouse on the wing — with their 
lips. 

The writer hereof well remembers when a boy to have read a 
sort of half-romantic account of Napoleon's campaigns, which 
so filled him with martial enthusiasm that he slept only to 
dream of the clashing of steel, which don't clash, the rattling 
of drums, which don't rattle, and the braying of trumpets, 
which don't bray, on the battle field. 

So doth the swift-winged grouse frequently — more frequently 
than otherwise — hie him to his native lair even after the blue 
smoke from the breech-loader hath skyward curled. 

Ah! how easily, when the regiment is marching through your 
streets to the front, in the midst of the music of bands, the 
waving of flags, the cheers of men and the smiles of women — 
yes, she smiled and smiled, Heaven bless her! though her heart 
was breaking and the tears would come — how easily, I say, 
your kindly-disposed newspaper reporter sends the newly-made 
warrior right up to the cannon's mouth — in printers' ink! 

Peradventure, my friend, peradventure. 'Tis a long, long 
toddle up to an able-bodied cannon's mouth. 

And, for a cold solidly frozen fact, there is nothing in life so 
well calculated to remind one of home, and of all the charms 
and endearments of the domestic circle, as a minie bullet play- 
fully skipping about one's ear or a ten-pound shell disporting 
gayly just over one's head. 

Years ago some one wrote, and to make it as unintelligible as 
possible to the average taxpayer, they usually print it in Latin: — 

"'Tis sweet to die for one's country." 

The writer hereof, in this contribution to his country's war- 
like literature, begs leave to differ with the cheerful idiot who 
originated that assertion. 

It is not sweet to do any such thing. 

Of course the writer has not died for his country to any great 
extent, so that he speaks not from actual experience. 

Yet he has seen several others die for their country and they 
seemed not to like it a bit, and he insists that, while that senti- 
ment may look well on gravestones and monuments, the idea 
embodied in it is not one the average patriot absolutely hankers 
to put into practice. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 555 

Appreciative reader, discipline keeps one class of men in a 
fight; the other class comprises all those who stay there and 
take their chances of getting shot because it is easier to do that 
than to go to the rear and meet the charge of cowardice. 

'Tis a sad comment on our race, yet such is the heart-rending 
fact, that there are men whom neither discipline, nor love of 
country, nor sneers, nor taunts, nor anything else, excepting a 
rope, will keep in a fight. So do we see, now and then, a setter 
dog, the well marked descendant of a long line of aristocratic 
dogs accustomed to the gun, that is, gun shy. 

There was a gun-shy man in the heavy artillery. 

He joined that patriotic body just before the last Wilderness 
fighting, which, I shall willingly admit, was not especially 
adapted to give him a cheerful insight into the business. 

The very first shell that plowed its rough furrow through our 
ranks after he put on the blue took him to the rear like a sky- 
rocket. 

He had no particular business at the rear. 

He said afterwards that in going to the rear he was only ac- 
tuated by a desire to ascertain just how far a shell would tres- 
pass on a man's land when it got its back up. 

Let it be recorded right here that he was an intelligent, sen- 
sible, and educated citizen, but he was gun shy. 

However, he hung round the outskirts of the artillery until 
we reached Cool Arbor — a spot, of all the spots that were ever 
known, the most outrageously misnamed. 

The writer hereof makes that assertion from well-grounded 
and deep-seated convictions. 

Twice during those bickerings it was his fortune to spend a 
few days at that celebrated Southern summer resort. 

It may have been cool there in the winter, years ago, in the 
glacial period; it may have been cool there in the summer, but 
in that summer time when he was there, it was not cool. 

No! It was hot. 

It was very hot — red hot. And there was no arbor, no shade 
of any kind. 

The gun-shy man, with sagacity that was in some respects 
commendable, but not precisely practiqable to all of us, at once 
dug a hole in the soft and attractive earth. Deep down in the 
very bottom of that hole the gun-shy man established himself. 

It was not a pleasant position. 



556 CAMP AND FIELD. 

It gave him the cramp in the legs, and led his associates to 
liken him to a woodchuck. 

But what cared he for jibes or sneers? 

Lay not the flattering unction to your soul that there can be 
a hole too deep for a Southern shell to penetrate or a tree too 
high for a Southern bullet to climb. 

Such was the experience of the gun-shy man. 

For it came about after a few days of rather unpleasant but 
unremitting interchange of lead and iron, the people on the 
other side mounted their artillery so that they shot their Con- 
federate valentines into the air and kindly allowed them to 
drop into our very midst, in half circles of the most beautiful 
but heart-rending proportions. This was too much for the gun- 
shy man. 

One morning when they took him his hardtack and coffee he 
had no use for them. Partly from exposure, but mostly from 
fright, he had crossed the dark river. 

True, he counted not much for a soldier living, but dead, he 
was entitled at least to a small portion of the broad mantle of 
charity that belongs to humanity. 

They made him a rude coffin from ammunition boxes. 

In the expressive vernacular of those heartless times they 
planted him in the hole he had dug with his own hands. Then 
they sought from their commander a suitable inscription for 
his headboard. 

Thinking that it might gratify the relatives of the gun-shy 
man to hear that we had paid some little respect to his mem- 
ory, the commander of the heavy artillery suggested for an 
inscription : — 

On fame's eternal camping ground 

Their silent tents are spread ; 
And glory guards with solemn round 
The bivouac of the dead. 

The suggestion was favorably received and the inscription 
duly inscribed on the headboard. 

But during the first night after the burial some patriot, who 
evidently regarded the subject from his own standpoint, added 
the word "beat " after the word " dead " in the last line. 

So that the inscription, as finally amended, while it may have 
been strictly in accordance with the truth, was not exactly 
such as we had intended. 



SOLDIER^K-LIFE. 



50ME OF ITS SCENES AS DEPICTED BY A CONFEDERATE SOLDIER 



INCIDENTS OF THE MARCH AND THE BATTLE, BY A MAN WHO HAS 
SEEN HARD SERVICE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY, 

CARLTON McCarthy, 

Private 2(1 Company of Ricliinond Howitzers, Autiior of "Soldier Life in the Army of 

Xortherii Va., '61-5. 



i|^;:;?^sft^?^j^^p;: 



jRDERS to move! Where? when? what for? — are the 
eager questions of the men as they begin their prep- 
arations to march. Generally, nobody can answer, and 
the journey is commenced in utter ignorance of where it is to 
end. But shrewd guesses are made and scraps of information 
will be picked up on the way. The main thought must be to 
"get ready to move.'' The orderly sergeant is shouting "Fall 
in!" and there is no time to lose. The probability is that, 
before you get your blanket rolled up, find your frying-pan, 
haversack, axe, etc., and "fall in," the roll-call will be over, 
and some " extra duty " provided. No wonder there is bustle 
in the camp. Rapid decisions are to be made between the vari- 
ous conveniences which have accumulated, for some must be 
left. One fellow picks up the skillet, holds it awhile, mentally 
determining how much it weighs, and what will be the weight of 
it after carrying it five miles, and reluctantly, with a half 
ashamed, sly look, drops it and takes his place in the ranks. 
Another, having added to his store of blankets too freely, now 
has to decide which of the two or three he will leave. The old 
water bucket looks large and heavy, but one stout-hearted, 
strong-armed man has taken it affectionately to his care. This 
is the time to say farewell to the bread tray; farewell to the 
little piles of clean straAv laid between two logs, where it was 
so easy to sleep; farewell to those piles of wood, cut with so 



558 CAMF AND FIELD. 

much labor; farewell to the girls in the neighborhood; farewell 
to the spring; farewell to " our tree " and "our fire"; good-by 
to the fellows who are not going, and a general good-by to the 
very hills and valleys. Soldiers commonly threw away the 
most valuable article they possessed. Blankets, overcoats, 
shoes, bread and meat — all gave way to the necessities of the 
march; and what one man threw away would frequently be the 
very article that another wanted, and would immediately pick 
u]); so there was not much lost after all. The first hour or so 
of the march was generally quite orderly, the men preserving 
their places in the ranks and marching in solid column; but 
soon some lively fellow whistles an air, somebody else starts a 
song, the whole column breaks out with roars of laughter; 
''route step" takes the place of order, and the jolly singing, 
laughing, talking, and joking that follow, no one could describe. 
Now, let any young officer who sports a new hat, coat, saddle, 
or anything odd or fine, dare to pass along, and how nicely he 
is attended to. The expressions of good natured fun, or con- 
tempt, which one regiment of infantry was capable of uttering 
in a day for the benefit of such passers-by, would fill a volume. 
As one thing or another in the dress of the " subject " of their 
remarks attracted attention, they would shout: " Come out of 
that hat! — can't hide in thar! " ''Come out of that coat, 
come out — there's a man in it!" "Come out of them boots!" 
The infantry seemed to know exactly what to say to torment 
cavalry and artillery, and generally said it. If any one on the 
roadside was simple enough to recognize and address by name 
a man in the ranks, the whole column would kindly respond, 
and add all sorts of pleasant remarks, such as: " Hello, John, 
here's your brother! " " Bill! oh, Bill! here's your ma! " " Glad 
to see you!" "How's your grandma?" " How d'ye do!" "Come 
out of that biled shirt ! " Troops on the march were generally 
so cheerful and gay that an outsider, looking on them as they 
marched, would hardly imagine how they suffered. In sum- 
mer time, the dust, combined with the heat, caused great 
suffering. The nostrils of the men, filled with dust, became 
dry and feverish, and even the throat did not escape. The 
" grit" was felt between the teeth, and the eyes were rendered 
almost useless. There was dust in eyes, mouth, ears and hair. 
The shoes were full of sand, and the dust, penetrating the 
clothes, and getting in at the neck, wrists, ^nd ankles, mixed 



CAMP AND FIELI>. 559 

with perspiration, produced an irritant almost as active as 
cantharides. The heat was at times terrific, but the men 
became greatly accustomed to it, and endured it with wonder- 
ful ease. If the dust and the heat were not on hand, their very 
able substitutes were: mud, cold, rain, snow, hail, and wind 
took their places. Rain was the greatest discomfort a soldier 
could have; it was more uncomfortable than the severest cold 
with clear weather. Wet clothes, shoes and blankets; wet 
meat and bread; wet feet and wet ground; wet wood to burn, 
or rather not to burn; wet arms and ammunition; wet ground to 
sleep on, and mud to wade through, swollen creeks to ford, 
muddy springs and a thousand other discomforts attended the 
rain. There was no comfort on a rainy day or night, except in 
" bed," that is, under your blanket and oil cloth. Cold winds, 
blowing the rain in the faces of the men, increased the discom- 
fort. Mud was often so deep as to submerge the horses and 
mules, and, at times, it was necessary for one man or more to 
extricate another from the mud holes in the road. 

Night marching was attended with additional discomforts 
and dangers, such as falling off bridges, stumbling into 
ditches, tearing the face and injuring the eyes against the 
bushes and projecting limbs of trees, and getting separated 
from your own company and hopelessly lost in the multitude. 
Of course, a man lost had no sympathy. If he dared to ask 
a question, every man in hearing would answer, each differ- 
ently, and then the whole multitude would roar with laughter 
at the lost man, and ask him if his mother knew he was 
out? Very few men, the writer tells us, had comfortable or 
fitting shoes, and fewer had socks, and, as a consequence, the 
suffering from bruised and inflamed feet was terrible. It was 
a common practice, on long marches, for the men to take off 
their shoes and carry them in their hands or swung over their 
shoulder. Bloody footprints in the snow were not unknown to 
the soldiers of the Army of Northern Virginia! When large 
bodies of troops were moving on the same road, the alternate 
"halt" and "forward" were very harassing. Every obstacle 
produced a halt, and caused the men at once to sit and lie 
down on the roadside where shade or grass tempted them; 
about the time they got fixed they would hear the word " for- 
ward," and then have to move at increased speed to close up 
the gap in the column. About noon, on a hot day, some fel- 



560 CAMP AND FIELD. 

low with the water instinct would determine in his own mind 
that a well was not far ahead, and start off on a trot to reach 
it before the column. Of course, another and another fol- 
lowed, till a stream of men were hurrying to the well, which 
was soon completely surrounded by a thirsty mob, yelling and 
pushing and pulling to get to the bucket as the windlass 
brought it again and again to the surface. It was in vain that 
the officers tried to stop the stream of men making for the 
water, and equally vain to attempt to move the crowd while 
a drop remained accessible. As the men tired, there was less and 
less talking, until the whole mass became quiet and serious. Each 
man was occupied with his own thoughts. For miles nothing 
could be heard but the steady tramp of the men, the rattling 
and jingling of canteens and accoutrements, and the occasional 
'• Close up, men, — close up! " of the officers. The most refresh- 
ing incidents of the march occurred when the column entered 
some clean, cosy village, where the people loved the troops. 
Matron and maid vied with each other, in their efforts to 
express their devotion to the defenders of their cause. Remem- 
bering with tearful eyes the absent soldier, brother, or hus- 
band, they yet smiled through their tears, and with hearts 
and voices welcomed the coming of the road-stained troops. 
Their scanty larders poured out the last morsel, and their 
bravest words were spoken as the column moved by. As even- 
ing came on, questioning of the officers was in order. After 
all, the march had more pleasure than pain. Chosen friends 
walked and talked and smoked together; the hills and valleys 
made themselves a panorama for the feasting of the soldiers' 
eyes; a turnip patch here, and an onion patch there, invited 
him to occasional refreshment, and it was sweet to think that 
" camp " was near at hand and rest, and the journey almost 
ended. 

FUN AND FURY ON THE FIELD. 

A battle field, when only a few thousand of men are engaged, 
is a more extensive area than most persons would suppose. 
When large bodies of men — 20,000 to 50,000 on each side — are 
engaged, a mounted man, at liberty to gallop from place to 
place, could scarcely travel the field over during the continu- 
ance of the battle, and a private soldier, in the smallest affair, 
sees very little indeed of the field. What occurs in his own 
regiment, or probably in his own company, is about all, and is 



y 

a 



n 




CAMP AND FIELD. 561 

sometimes more than he actually sees or knows. Thus it is 
that, while the field is extensive, it is to each individual lim- 
ited to the narrow space of which he is cognizant. The column, 
hitherto moving forward with the steadiness of a mighty 
river, hesitates, halts, steps back, then forward, hesitates 
again, halts. The colonels talk to the brigadiers, the brigadiers 
talk to the major-general, some officers hurry forward and 
others hurry to the rear. Infantry stands to one side of the 
road while cavalry trots to the front. Now, some old 
wagons marked " Ord. Dept." go creaking and rumbling by. 
One or two light ambulances, with a gay and careless air, 
seem to trip along with the ease of a dancing girl. They and 
the surgeons seem cheerful. Some, not many, ask: " What is 
the matter?" Most of the men there know exactly; they are 
on the edge of a battle. Presently a very quiet, almost sleepy 
looking man on horseback says, "Forward, 19th I" and away 
goes the leading regiment. A little way ahead, the regiment 
jumps a fence, and — p^tpl bang! whizi thudi is all that can be 
heard, until the rebel yell reverberates through the woods. 
Battle? No I Skirmishers advancing. Step into the woods 
now and watch these skirmishers. See how cheerfully they go 
in. How rapidly they load, fire, and reload. They stand six and 
twelve feet apart, calling to each other, laughing, shouting, 
and cheering, but advancing. There, one fellow has dropped 
his musket like something red hot. His finger is shot away. 
His friends congratulate him, and he walks sadly away to the 
rear. Another staggers and falls with a ball through his neck, 
mortally wounded. Two comrades raise him to his feet and 
try to lead him away, but one of them receives a ball in his 
thigh which crushes the bone, and he falls groaning to the 
ground. 

The other advises his poor, dying friend to lie down, helps 
him to do so and runs to join his advancing comrades. When 
he overtakes them he finds every man securely posted behind a 
tree, loading, firing, and conducting himself generally with 
great deliberation and prudence. They have at last driven the 
enemy's skirmishers in upon the line of battle, and are wait- 
ing. A score of men have fallen here, some killed outright; 
some slightly, some sorely, and some mortally wounded. The 
elements now add to the horrors of the hour. Dense clouds, 
hovering near the tree tops, add deeper shadows to the woods. 



562 CA.MP AND FIELD. 

Thunder, deep and ominous, rolls in prolonged peals across 
the sky, and lurid lightning darts among the trees and 
glistens on the gun barrels. But still they stand. Now, a 
battery has been hurried into position, the heavy trails have 
fallen to the ground, and, at the command, "Commence 
firing I" the cannoneers have stepped in briskly and loaded. 
The first gun blazes at the muzzle, and away goes a shell. The 
poor fellows in the woods rejoice as it crashes through the 
trees over their heads, and cheer when it explodes over the 
enemy's line. Now, what a chorus! Thunder, gun after gun, 
shell after shell, musketry, pelting rain, shouts, groans, cheers, 
and commands! But help is coming. At the edge of the wood, 
where the skirmishers entered, the brigade is in line. Some- 
body has ordered, "Load!" The ramrods glisten and rattle 
down the barrels of 1000 muskets. " F-o-o-o-o-r-r-r-r-w-a-a-a- 
r-r-d! " is the next command, and the brigade disappears in the 
woods, the canteens rattling, the bushes crackling, and the 
officers never ceasing to say: "Close up, men; close up! 
Guide c-e-n-t-r-r-r-r-e! " The men on that skirmish line have at 
last found it advisable to lie down at full length on the ground, 
though it is so wet, and place their heads against the trees in 
front. They cannot advance and they cannot retire without, in 
either case, exposing themselves to almost certain death. They 
are waiting for the line of battle to come to their relief. At last, 
before they see, they hear the line advancing through the pines. 
The snapping of the twigs, the neighing of horses, and hoarse 
commands, inspire a husky cheer, and when the line of the old 
brigade breaks through the trees in full view, they fairly yell! 
Every man jumps to his feet, the brigade presses firmly for- 
ward, and soon the roll of musketry tells all who are waiting to 
hear that serious work is progressing down in the woods. All 
honor to the devoted infantry. The hour of glory has arrived for 
couriers, aides-de-camp, and staff officers generally. They 
dash about from place to place like spirits of unrest. Brigade 
after brigade, and division after division is hurried into line, 
and pressed forward into action. Battalions of artillery open 
fire from the crests of many hills, and the battle has begun. 
Ammunition trains climb impassable places, cross ditches with- 
out bridges, and manage somehow to place themselves in 
reach of the troops. Ambulances, which only an hour ago went 
gayly forward, now slowly and solemnly return loaded. Shells 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



563 



and musket balls, which must have lost their way, go flitting 
about here and there, wounding and killing men who deem 
themselves far away from danger. Among the anecdotes told 
is one which occurred at the battle of the Wilderness, in May, 
1864, when a North Carolinian precipitated a severe fight by ask- 
ing a very simple and reasonable question. The line of battle 
had been pressed forward and was in close proximity to the 
CTiemy. Everything was hushed and still. No one dared to 
speak above a whisper. It was evening and growing dark. 
As the men lay on the ground, keenly sensible to every sound 
and anxiously waiting, they heard the firm tread of a man 
walking along the line. As he walked they heard also the 
jingle-jangle of a pile of canteens around his neck. He ad- 
vanced with deliberation to within a few yards of the line, and 
opened a terrific fight by quietly saying: " Can any one of 
you fellows tell a man whar he can get some water?" 
Instantly the thicket was illuminated by a flash of a thousand 
muskets, the men leaped to their feet, the officers shouted, and 
the battle was begun. Neither side would yield, and there they 
*ought till many died. 



* 



'!;¥■ 



fl^ 



General Sumner and His Son at Antietam. 



?N incident is related by a veteran, 
> (^ of General Sumner, at Antietam. 
His son, young Captain Sum- 
ner, a youth of twenty-one, was 
on his staff. The old man calmly 
stood amidst a storm of shot and 
shells, and turned to send him through 
a doubly raging fire upon a mission of 
duty. He might never see his boy again, 
but his country claimed his life, and 
as he looked upon his young bi-ow he 



grasped his hand, encircled him with 
his arms and fondly kissed him. " Good- 
by, Sammy." "Good-by, father," and 
the youth, mounting his horse, rode 
gayly on his message. He returned 
unharmed, and again his hand was 
grasped with a cordial " How d'ye 
do, Sanmiy? " answered by a grasp of 
equal affection. 

The scene was touching to those 
around. 




HOW 



Rivers are Bridged for Retreating Armies, 

WINTER QUARTERS AND THEIR DANGERS. 

HOW GREAT ARMIES ARE GUARDED IN CANTONMENTS. 

" VETKRAN." 



•'Vs\x\\x\\XN\v^x\\x\NXNNvvvx\\v\\%^;:'^:^] '^^, J^, ^r ^>, ::^y :^ 




IXCITEMENT, demoralization, and utter rout have fre- 
iT quently attended the arrival of an army on a river's 
bank. Most of the great catastrophes to either side in 
the war of the rebellion were strategically or tactically 
identified with rivers which are now gradually or mournfully 
historic. Ball's Bluff and the Potomac are inseparably joined, 
so are Fredericksburg and the Rappahannock, Vicksburg and 
the Mississippi, the seven days' battles and the Chickahominy, 
the Wilderness and the Rapidan. The dreadful strain, the 
wonderful romance, and the practical pivots of the great war 
were experienced and found on these and other streams of the 
Sunny South. Brilliant maneuver and desperate struggle, de- 
veloped by one or both armies, from month to month and 
through the years of contest, marked the progress of the Amer- 
ican citizen in the art of war. Rivers were the great obstacle 
teachers at whose feet the greatest names in the country were 
obliged to prostrate themselves in a humiliation of tutelage, 
from which some of them never arose to renown or even to a 
command. One Red River campaign is enough for any man. 
The passage of a river in retreat is an operation of the greatest 
interest. If the strearp is narrov/, and there are permanent 
bridges over it, the operation is nothing more than the passage 
of a defile, but when the river is wide, and is to be crossed on a 
temporary military bridge, it is a maneuver of extreme 
delicacy. Among the precautions to betaken, a very important 



CAMV A.ND FIT^XD 565 

one is to get the parks, the wagons, and the reserve artillery 
well advanced, so that they may be well out of the way of the 
army. For this purpose it is well for the army to halt a half- 
day's march from the river. This excellent rule of war would 
hardly have availed Jubal Early in his ruinous flight, when at- 
tempting to cross Cedar creek with Sheridan at his heels, an 
instance where the pursuer was at the crossing about as soon 
as the pursued army, or rather mob, for all organization was 
destroyed. But in spite of Early the rule holds good. The rear 
guard should also keep at more than the usual distance from the 
main army— as far, in fact, as the conditions will allow. If 
these precautions are secured, the army may file across the 
bridge without being too much worried. The march of the 
rear guard should be so arranged that it will reach a position in 
front of the bridge just as the last of the main body passes. 
This will be a suitable moment for relieving the rear guard 
with fresh troops strongly posted, the rear guard passing 
through the intervals of the fresh troops and crossing the 
bridge. The enemy coming up and being confronted by fresh 
troops, strongly posted, ready to give battle, will not attempt 
to press them too closely. The new rear guard will hold its 
position until night, and will then cross the river, destroying 
the bridges after it. It is, of course, understood that, as fast as 
the troops cross, they will form on the opposite bank, plant 
batteries, etc., if the enemy is demonstrative, so as to protect 
the corps left to hold the enemy in check. The dangers of such 
a passage in retreat, and the nature of the precautions which 
facilitate it, indicate that measures should always be taken to 
throw up intrenchments at the point where the bridge is to be 
constructed and the passage made. When time is not allowed 
for the construction of a regular fete de pont, a few well armed 
redoubts, or the rudest sort of breastworks, will be found of great 
value in covering the retreat of the last troops. If the passage 
of a large river is so difficult when the enemy is pressing only 
on the rear of the column, it is far more so when the army is 
threatened both in the front and rear, and the river is guarded 
by the enemy in force. The celebrated passage of the Beresina 
by the French is one of the most remarkable examples of such 
an operation. Never was an army in a more desperate con- 
dition, and never was one extricated more gloriously and skill- 
fully. Pressed by famine, benumbed with cold, distant 1.300 



566 CAMP AND FIELD. 

miles from its base of operations, assailed by tbe enemy in front 
and in rear, having a river with marshy banks in front, sur- 
rounded by vast forests, how could it hope to escape? It paid 
dearly for the honor it gained. The mistake of Admiral 
Tschitchagoff doubtless helped its escape, but the army per- 
formed heroic deeds, for which due praise should be given. 
"It is difficult to tell which to admire most," says Baron 
Jomini, " the plan of operations which brought up the Russian 
armies from Moldavia, Moscow, and from Polotzk to the Beresina 
as to a rendezvous arranged in a time of peace — a plan which 
came near to effecting the capture of their formidable adver- 
sary — or the wonderful firmness of the lion thus pursued, who 
succeeded in opening a way through his enemies." 

The only rules to be laid down are not to permit your army 
to be closely pressed upon, to deceive the enemy as to the point 
of passage, and to fall headlong upon the corps which bars the 
way before the one which is following the rear of your columns 
can come up. Never place yourself in a position to be exposed 
to such danger, for escape is rare in such a case. If a retreat- 
ing army should try to protect its bridges by redoubts or other- 
wise, it is natural, also, that the pursuing enemy should use 
every effort to destroy the bridges. When the retreat is made 
down the bank of a river, wooden houses may be thrown into 
the stream, also fireships, etc. In 1796 the Austrians used mills, 
sending them down stream upon Jourdan's army on the Rhine. 
The Archduke Charles did the same thing at Essling in 1809, 
where he broke the bridge over the Danube and brought Na- 
poleon to the brink of ruin. It is difficult to secure a bridge 
against attacks of this character unless there is time to place a 
stockade above it. Boats may be anchored, provided with ropes 
and grappling hooks and with means for extinguishing fire- 
boats. 

It is to be observed that the pontoon system as employed by 
the armies of the war of the rebellion, obviates largely the 
difficulties here referred to. A pontoon bridge is so flexible a 
contrivance that an opening may easily and quickly be made 
to allow destructive floats to pass harmless by. This would 
be so obvious to an enemy that he would scarcely waste his 
time, except where exceptional conditions favored such an en- 
terprise, in making the attempt. Certainly at Fredericksburg 
the rebel army under the admirable cover of the buildings on 



CAMP AND FIELI>. 567 

the banks of the Rappahannock, enjoyed peculiar facihties for 
opposing the laying of a bridge. It was laid, however, by the 
Union engineers, in the very teeth of an alert foe and a cross- 
ing effected. That branch of the art of war which pertains to 
bridge building has advanced rapidly within fifty years. This 
is especially true of railroad bridges, which were, of course, 
entirely unknown half a century ago. 

WINTER QUARTERS. 

Formerly, in European countries, it was usual for each party 
to go into winter quarters at the end of October, and all the fight- 
ing after that was of a partisan character, carried on by the 
advanced troops at the outposts. This habit was violently 
broken in upon by Frederick and Napoleon, and all Europe was 
surprised at this innovation. Attacks from outpost forces were 
previously often severe and sometimes disastrous. The surprise 
of the Austrian winter quarters in upper Alsace in 1674, by 
Tiirenne, is a good example from which may be learned the 
best method of conducting such an enterprise, and the precau- 
tions to be taken by the other side to prevent its success. The 
question of cantonments or winter quarters is a difficult one 
with a war carried on actively, however connected the ar- 
rangements may be, and there is almost always some point ex- 
posed to the enemy's attack. Formerly, a country where large 
towns abounded presented more facilities for the establishment 
of winter quarters than any other, but the building of military 
railroads and the use of steam transports on sea and river, 
have completely revolutionized this branch of the service, so 
that if wood is plentiful and a base not too distant, a big army 
may encamp for the winter in a wilderness. Old methods of 
sustaining an army in winter have been largely superseded by 
the appliances and expedients which steam has made practi- 
cable. The railroads and streams of Virginia, Kentucky, and 
Tennessee pre-eminently exemplify modern methods. In the 
war of the rebellion, strategic points and communications de- 
cided positions for winter quarters in most cases, while, in the 
first three .winters in the East, the Southern commander dic- 
tated the cantonments of the Northern armies to a great extent. 
In Tennessee it was the reverse. Most of the rivers above 
named became famous as the scenes of great improvised cities, 
populous and full of life and encampment animation, only to be 



568 CAMP AND FIEIR 

utterly and forever deserted in an hour when the next cam- 
paign burst upon the theater of war. Manassas. Centreville, 
the Rappahannock, the Rapidan, and about Petersburg wer^^ 
winter homes for the vast hosts of Northern and Southern sol 
diers through several eventful winters, while through Ten- 
nessee, Georgia, Mississippi, Louisiana, and North Carolina, 
great armies found briefer or longer cantonments. Some of 
the Union generals tried to avoid the long inaction of a whole 
winter in strict winter quarters, notably Burnside, but his cam- 
paign in the mud was neither forgotten nor repeated, although 
some brilliant cavalry raids were made while the great bulk of 
the army was in stockades, made more comfortable than those 
at home could believe. Through the northern belt of the great 
conflict, the troops were obliged to protect themselves from 
severe cold, and the writer well remembers the intense suffer- 
ing experienced by forces in northern Virginia repelling rebel 
raids, with only the protection at night of shelter tents. But 
throughout the greater portion of the theater of war. the inac- 
tion of the winter was more occasioned by rain and mud than 
by any conditions of temperature, while in the far South there 
was no such thing as sending an army into winter quarters. 
There were periods of inaction, however, which might well 
correspond to winter torpor. Without especial reference to any 
particular war or latitude, the best general rules seem to be 
the following: Establish the cantonments very compactly and 
connectedly, occupying a space as broad as long, in order to 
avoid having a too extended line of troops, which is always 
easily broken through and cannot be concentrated in time. 
Cover them by a river or by an outer line of troops m huts, and 
with their position strengthened by field works. Fix upon 
points of assembly, which all the troops can reach before the 
enemy can penetrate so far. Keep all the avenues by which 
an enemy may approach constantly patrolled by bodies of 
cavalry. Finally, establish signals to give warning of any at- 
tack. This last rule was fully in force before the use of the 
electric telegraph, and was to a considerable extent essential 
during the rebellion. 

In the year 1807 Napoleon established his army in canton- 
ments behind the Passarge, in face of the enemy, the advance 
guard alone being hutted near the cities of Gulstadt, Osterode, 
etc. The army numbered more than 1 "30. 000 men, and much 



CAMP AND FIELD. 569 

skill was requisite in feeding it and keeping it otherwise com- 
fortable in this position until June. The country was of a 
favorable character, but such is not always the case. 

The difficulty increases with the size of the army. It must 
be observed, however, that if the extent of the country occu- 
pied increases in proportion to the numbers of the army, the 
means of opposing an irruption of the enemy increases in the 
same proportion. The important point is to be able to assemble a 
large force in twenty-four hours. With such an army in hand, 
and with the certainty of having it rapidly increased, the 
enemy may be held in check, no matter how strong he may be, 
until the whole army is assembled. It must be admitted, how- 
ever, that there will always be a risk in going into winter quar- 
ters if the enemy keeps his army in a body and seems inclined 
to make offensive movements, and the conclusion to be drawn 
from this fact is that the only method of giving secure repose 
to an army in winter or in the midst of a campaign is to estab- 
lish it in quarters protected by a river, or else to secure an 
armistice. During the first winter of the rebellion the rebel 
armies were quite secure in their repose, especially in Virginia, 
by the fear they engendered in the minds of the commanders 
of the Union forces. In Kentucky and Tennessee, at the same 
time, Grant was not in winter quarters at all, but was pushing 
things wonderfully, and laid siege to and captured Donelson in 
the midst of snow-storms and freezing cold. In the strategic 
positions taken up by an army in the course of a campaign, 
whether marching or acting as an army of observation, or wait- 
ing for a favorable opportunity for taking the offensive, it will 
probably occupy quite compact cantonments. The selection of 
such positions requires great experience upon the part of a 
general, in order that he may form correct conclusions 
as to what he may expect the enemy to do. An army 
should occupy space enough to enable it to subsist readily, and 
it should also keep as much concentrated as possible, to be 
ready for the enemy should he show himself, and these two 
conditions are by no means easily reconciled. On the continent 
the rule is that there is no better arrangement than to place the 
divisions of an army in a space nearly a square, so that, in case 
of need, the whole army may be assembled at any point where 
the enemy may present himself. Nine divisions placed in this 
wav, half a day's march from each other, may in twelve hours 



570 



CAMP AND FIELE, 



assemble on the center. The same rules are to be observed in 
these cases as were laid down for winter quarters. In the late 
war in this country, more reliance was placed on ample breast- 
works than in a concentrated line, so that, whether in winter 
quarters or during temporary reposes in the midst of a cam- 
paign, some of the most elaborate operations at times consisted 
in the throwing up of strong earthworks. The Army of the 
Potomac doubtless retains a vivid recollection of " Quaker 
guns." 



MY FATHER'S UNKNOWN GRAVE 

W. E. P. 



*HE teardrops trickle down my 
cheeks 
As I sit thinking of the brave ; 
Ah me! I shudder now to think 
Of my father's unknown grave. 

He left his wife and children three, 
Whilst he his country went to save. 

How little did he think that he 

Would fill a soldier's unknown grave. 

I weep, but I am not alone. 

For thousands of the good and brave 
Are sleeping in some Southern clime, 

Where rise of earth scarce marks 
their grave. 

All these had friends who loved them 

well, 
And they in turn did their friends 

crave; 
But where are they, these noble men ? 
They died, and fill an unknown grave. 



Shall we not love these noble men, 
Shall we not call them honored dead ? 

What if their graves are all unknown. 
Can less be of their honor said ? 

Remend)er, we will soon be gone, 
To live always we would not crave; 

How many years shall pass away, 

Till ours shall be an unknown grave? 

But if in church-yard he did lay, 

Where T his bed with flowers could 
pave, 

I there would in my grief resort, 
And deck my father's lonely grave. 

May heaven smile on these soldiers 
dear, 
And for them all choice blessings 
save ; 
For He above doth know the spot 

Where rests my sire in unknown 
"rave. 




S«— y=V3 



An English Steamer Captured. 

-^SHE HAD RUN THE BLOCKADE AT CHARLESTON THREE TIMES. 4- 



On Her Fotitfh Voyage to Help the Confederacy. 



A WELL^T^AID PLAN THAT DIDN'T WORK. 

(BY THE SECOND MATE.) 
" '^'^ ''/^'i y/^' 'y/^'''/^' ''z^: " 



^|N the spring of 1863, just after my return from a voyage to 
Ol China and back in a British bark, I was loafing around 
cijy Liverpool to wait for a berth, when one William Savage, 
an old sailor mate of mine, ran across me one evening and 
offered to ship me in a steamer which had run the blockade 
into Charleston three times, and was about to attempt a fourth 
trip. She was a fair sized side wheeler, called the Isle of 
Wight, and had nearly finished her loading. She carried a 
crew of about twenty men, and Savage was kind enough to say 
that I should be second mate, and that the pay would be the 
highest I ever received. 

In a day or two I found that the steamer was loading with 
two or three field batteries, two large guns for cruisers, and an 
immense amount of other war material. When everything was 
aboard I heard it said that steamer and cargo were worth a 
full million dollars, and we were to touch at Nassau and take 
on three thousand muskets, a lot of hospital stores, and some 
odds and ends badly wanted by the Confederacy. Our crew 
were a riff-raff set, with nothing of the sailor about them, 
while the captain was a typical John Bull, named Graham. 

I heard it said that our venture was known to the American 
Minister, and that he promptly notified his Government, but no 
cruiser would have any business with us until we left Nassau. 
We made that port in due season, everything working smoothly, 
and although we took in our additional cargo inside of twenty- 
four hours, the steamer delayed her sailing to the fifth day, on 
account of a Yankee man-of-war hovering on the coast in hopes 



572 CAMP AND FIELD. 

to nab us. Meanwhile the crew had a jolly time among the 
taverns, and Savage and myself bore our full part. It was one 
evening when we were both the worse for liquor that he took 
me aside and began: — 

" William, I believe you to be a reliable man. You are poor, 
and I can put you in the way of handling a snug $25,000." 

His language sobered me up and astonished me. He beat 
around the bush for awhile and then came to the point, which 
he stated as follows: — 

" Here's a steamer and cargo worth at least $120,000. What's 
to prevent us from seizing her. making a Yankee port, and 
coming in for the prize money? " 

" Why, the captain and crew will prevent," I replied. 

"The captain may try to, but the crew are all right. I've 
sounded 'em to a man, and they'll stick by me." 

" Wouldn't it be mutiny and piracy?" 

" Exactly. If any of us are fools enough to return to En- 
gland we must stand our chances. The Yankees will be only 
too glad to welcome us." 

To my discredit, perhaps, I needed but little urging to join 
the conspiracy, and when we finally put to sea, everything was 
ripe for the seizure. The pilot, who was a Southerner, was the 
only man besides the captain not in the plot. Savage had 
sounded him a bit, but found him loyal to the core, and gave 
him up. It was arranged that the seizure should take place at 
midnight. At that hour the pilot was asleep in his berth, the 
captain dozing with his clothes on, and the steamer was run- 
ning through a calm sea, with the stars shining overhead. As 
the moment arrived Savage and I went down to secure the cap- 
tain while two others went to take care of the pilot. The latter 
was the one who got the start of us. The men went down to 
find him just turning out, and though they threw themselves 
upon him he knocked them right and left and got up stairs to 
the pilot-house. There he was attacked by the two men at the 
wheel, but the row ended in his shooting one stone dead and 
bouncing the other out with a broken head. The racket raised 
by the pilot when first assaulted alarmed the captain, and he 
greeted us with a shower of bullets and forced us out of the 
cabin. Savage being shot in both the arm and leg. 

Then began a high old time. Every man of us had a revolver 
and we divided off so as to keep the captain behnv and the pilot 



€AMP AXD FIELD 573 

in his house. The engineers and firemen quit their posts to 
take a hand, and in about an hour the steamer lay idle on the 
sea, having no longer any steam. We were now in for it and 
bound to have the craft. We could keep the captain below, 
but we must down the pilot. I should say that one hundred 
(>ullets were fired into the pilot house between midnight and 
daylight, but none of them wounded him. In return he killed 
one man and wounded two. When daylight came we were 
scattered about wherever we could find cover, and we opened 
on him again. It became evident, however, after we had 
wasted a good deal of lead that the only way to get him out 
was to make a rush. Nobody wanted to head one, as two or 
three men were certain to be killed. We had him penned up, 
but he had us rolling on the sea as helpless as a log. 

It was about nine o'clock, and we had gone aft one by one for 
a bite to eat, when a Yankee blockader hove in sight. Indeed, 
when we first saw her she was only ten miles off. Less than an 
hour later she was alongside and we were all prisoners. We 
told our story, claiming, I believe, to have been incited to capt- 
ure the craft by patriotic motives, but all the prize money 
which we got out of it was three months in jail apiece. Either 
the story didn't wash or the Yankee commander didn't want 
to whack up on his rich haul. 

Historic I\4^sonic jkwels, 

TAKEN FROM FREDERICKSBURG LODGE, 1862. 



V^tHE lodge of Masons in which and A. M., of Philadelphia, in the safe 
CI George Washington was " initia- of that lodge, where it had been 
^ ted, passed and raised," Freder- deposited for safe keeping during the 
icksburg, No. 4, was pillaged in 1862, war by a former member of Integrity 
when that town was attacked by hostile Lodge, who had recovered it from a 
soldiery, the lodge safe blown open and soldier, who acknowledged having taken 
the i-ecords, regalia, jewels, etc., car- it from the lodge I'oom of No. 4. A 
ried off. Among the articles taken, note tacked to the jewel required its 
was an old jewel of solid silver in the delivery to No. 4, " when the state of 
form of a •' level," highly prized by the Virginia shoidd cease to be in open re- 
lodge for its antiquitjr. The old relic bellion against the authority of the gov- 
was recently discovered by the secre- ernment of the United States." The 
tary of Integrity Lodge, No. 1.58, A. F. jewel has been returned to the lodge. 



Humors of the Camp. 

^ 

Gayety of Some of the Southern Leaders and Light-Heartedness of the Troops. 

PEN PICTURES OF LEE, JACKSON, EWELL, STUART, 
BEAUREGARD AND OTHERS KNOWN TO FAME. 

By J. ESTEN COOKE, Confederate, Bojce, Va. 




|HE humorous side of the drama may be less inspiring 
and exciting, but it is more amusing and characteristic. 
There was a great deal of laughter in the midst of the 
gloomiest surroundings, at least on the Southern side, 
of which alone I am able to speak. The comic phase would 
persist in enlivening the hearts of all, and this "persistent 
gayety " in the dark hour, as in the bright, always struck me as 
a curious and interesting illustration of human nature. 

In this article it is not my intention to weary the reader with 
a moral essay on war and its ravages, but to relate some inci- 
dents and anecdotes showing the gay temper of the Southern 
soldiers, especially of officers in high command. It would be 
an endless task to make a collection of comic scenes and inci- 
dents relating to army life at large and I have no design of 
attempting it. What is here set down came for the most part 
directly under my personal observation, and the main object is 
to show how men in positions of the gravest responsibility, 
enough to crush out all tendency to fun, yet showed a marked 
tendency to enjoy the ' sunny side" of things, and laugh when 
ruin itself stared them in the face. 

Stuart's Gayety. 

Stuart was the gayest probably of all the Southern generals, 
and some anecdotes of him, not given in previous papers of this 
series, may eniertain the reader, and show the ever ready and 
abounding vivacity of the man. The propensity for "fun and 
frolic " in a human being depends largely, no doubt, on his 



CAMP AND FIKI.B. 575 

physical constitution. A hearty man is hearty in temper, and 
a dyspeptic invalid is gloomy. Stuart was a proof of the for- 
mer. He was a man of robust health and strength, warm 
blooded, as restless as a child, from what seemed pure excess of 
animal spirits, and he allowed no opportunity of perpetrating 
or enjoying a joke to escape him. I saw more or less of him 
from the time in 1861, when he was a colonel picketing the 
front, to 186-1, when he was a corps commander and fell in de- 
fense of Richmond, and he was always the same gay, laughing, 
high-spirited companion, with a fund of comic humor which 
burst out on every occasion. His staff were, for the most part, 
young men, as prone to fun as himself, and hib banjo player, 
Sweeney, who accompanied him everywhere, made the camp 
ring with his thumming, or the loud resounding chorus, "If 
you want to have a good time, jine the cavalry," in which 
Stuart joined with ardor, 

Stuart and a Former Cliiiin. 

Stuart was making a reconnaissance in the summer of 1861, 
when, riding ahead with two or three officers, he saw coming to 
meet him a Federal captain, whom he recognized as Cadet Per- 
kins, an old West Point friend. 

"Hello, Perk! " he exclaimed, "glad to see you. What are 
you doing here?" 

"Why, Beauty," replied Perkins, using Stuart's nickname 
at West Point, "how are you? I didn't know you were 
with us I" 

"And I didn't know you were on our side! " retorted Stuart. 
" What is your command?" 

Perkins pointed over his shoulder to a Federal battery coming 
in sight. 

" There's my command," he said. 

"Oh! the devil! " cried Stuart, bursting into a roar of laugh- 
ter. " Good-by, Perk!" And wheeling rapidly he went back 
at a gallop, followed by laughter from Captain Perkins, who 
had probably enjoyed the mystification. 

Fitz Lee's Old Company. 

This mutual recognition by old friends during the war oc- 
curred on very numerous occasions, and I remember an amus- 
ing instance of it in 1862, We were' making the well known 



576 CAMP AND FIBLD. 

reconnaissance in June of that year to the rear of General 
McClellan's forces on the Chickahominy, and near Old Church, 
in Hanover, captured a company of Federal cavalry on picket. 
The detachment on the Confederate side engaged in the charge 
was commanded by Gen. Fitz Lee, the gay and gallant, whose 
jovial face, with its sweeping moustache and heavy beard, was 
always the picture of enjoyment. As " General Fitz " looked 
at the blue-coated prisoners brought in he suddenly cried: — 

" How are you, Brown? Are you down there? How's Robin- 
son and the rest of my old people?" 

The individual addressed as Brown looked intently at Gen- 
eral Fitz, and suddenly his face lit up: — 

"Why, how are you, lieutenant!" he said, touching his hat, 
and in a moment afterwards General Fitz and Brown were 
shaking hands. Fitz Lee had captured his old company in the 
United States army, and he and Private Brown were exchang- 
ing friendly greetings. 

In the Hands of Old Friends. 

A similar recognition took place between my friend Lieuten- 
ant Washington, a descendant of the family of the pater patrice. 
and some West Point friends. The lieutenant was captured 
near the White House in New Kent, and, instead of being 
placed in durance vile, was met with open arms by his old 
chums. They made much of him, and the first news his friends 
had of him was through a photograph sent through the lines, 
representing himself and a young Federal lieutenant seated, 
arm in arm, with a small "bull pup" between them, which 
would have delighted General Grant." 

He Slew His Own Brother. 

Other occasions when old friends and often relatives recog- 
nized each other were not so comic. In 1862 Gen. Bradley 
Johnson, commanding the 1st Md., C. S. A., charged and drove 
at Front Royal the 1st Md., U. S. A., among whom were prob- 
ably many old acquaintances. And in the same region, the 
Valley, one of our generals told me this incident occurred. He 
had made an attack on a picket post and a brisk action fol- 
lowed. The Federal picket force was repulsed, but was return- 
ing to renew the action, when a Confederate cavalryman was 
seen dismounted and sitting beside the road, at the foot of a 



CAMP AND FIELD. 577 

tree. His officer called to him: "Come on! We are going into 
action." But the cavalryman shook his head. 

" I can't go, general," he groaned out. 

" What do you mean? " 

"General, I have just killed my brother!" sobbed out the 
poor fellow, "and I don't feel as if I could fight any more 
to-day." 

He explained that in the charge on the picket he had cut 
down a Federal cavalryman, and that as he fell he recognized 
his own brother, who was on the Northern side. 

The Witty Parson. 

Such incidents are too melancholy for a paper dealing with 
the humorous phases of war. To come back to more cheerful 
subjects. Stuart had many persons around him as fond of the 
comic aspect of things as himself. Among these was the 
" Parson," as we called him, who was full of wit himself, and 
the cause of wit in others. The parson was the soul of good 
humor — a fount of gayety, in fact, from which flowed fun and 
laughter in unfailing stream. For a long time he was seen 
flitting to and fro on his white horse in every engagement, but 
at last he was captured, and had some amusing experiences, 
which he related to us on his return. His capture took place 
during the bustling campaign culminating in the second battle 
of Manassas. Stuart had been sent in front of Jackson, who 
was making his famous flank and rear movement against Gen- 
eral Pope, to reach Manassas and destroy the Federal stores 
there, and many comic scenes followed while the great depot 
was burning. Men in rags were seen eating lobster salad and 
drinking champagne, and when Stuart reprimanded one of his 
young officers who had become somewhat elated, the young 
fellow ordered him to mind his own business, as he was in 
command there, whereat Stuart burst into laughter and rode 
on. 

Stonewall Jackson's Nap. 

Soon afterwards occurred the melancholy event of Parson 

's capture. We had followed the retiring forces of the 

Federal army, and Stuart and his staff spent the night outside 
the lines, at the house of some young lady friends near Frying 
Pan Church, returning the next day to take part in the final 
fight near Germantown. Here a trifling incident occurred — to 



578 CAMP AND FIELD. 

digress temporarily from the affairs of the parson — which 
showed Stuart's joyous mode of action. We had passed the 
infantry, waiting orders to advance on the Chantilly road, and 
Gen. Stonewall Jackson, seated on the ground with his back to 
a tree, was peacefully dozing in the midst of a sharp picket fire 
a hundred or two yards off, and Stuart pushed one of his guns 
down the road to shell a body of Federal cavalry. 

As to Damp Powder. 

The cavalry was soon seen to be a decoy. As the gun came 
into battery a line of sharpshooters, hidden in tall weeds, about 
seventy-five yards distant, rose up and opened a hot fire on the 
gun detachment. It was altogether a very "unwholesome" 
place, to use a military phrase. The hiss of bullets was inces- 
sant, and I said to Stuart: "Things are getting hot, general." 
He laughed, facing the fire with great indifference, and said in 
a matter-of-fact tone: " It is getting rather warm. I wish you 
would go to General Jackson and tell him I want some sharp- 
shooters on my left." The battle, however, began nearly at 
once, and continued during a violent storm,' which gave rise to 
one of Jackson's bon mots. An officer came to^him and said 
that his command would have to fall back, as the rain had 
wetted their powder and the guns were useless. 

"No," said Jackson; " hold your ground. If the rain wets 
your powder it will wet the enemy's, too." 

A reply similar to that of General Hoke, of North Carolina, 
when some one said in great perturbation:— 

"The enemy are very near you — yonder, general!" 

" Not nearer than I am to them," Hoke said, laughing. 

The Parson Lost. 

After the Germantown fight Stuart pushed on toward the 
liigh ground to the left of Fairfax Court House, in pursuit of 
the retiring enemy. But night had come and nearly a tragic 
or comic incident followed. As he was returning one of his 
own brigades took his force for Federal cavalry, and had 
sounded the charge on the bugle, when the terrible mistake was 
discovered. But the incident of the occasion, which produced 
most impression on the cavalry, or rather headquarters, was 
the mysterious disappearance of Parson . He had accom- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 579 

panied the advancing column, either thirsting for action or in 
hopes of commissary spoil, for the parson was an epicure and 
devoted to the good things of life, when suddenly the staff had 
lost sight of him in the darkness, and he was no more seen for 
many a day. 

The Parson Returns. 

We mourned him as one lost to us and were beginning to 
grov/ resigned to the inevitable, when one day the worthy par- 
son reappeared as suddenly as he had vanished. He was 
portly, ruddy, more jovial than ever — not the least bit of a 
ghost, or indicating in his rotund person the slightest experi- 
ence of prison life. He was received with an ovation, and 
became the center of admiring eyes. Very seldom, indeed, 
had we seen so portly a Confederate — one displaying so unmis- 
takably a recent familiarity with the good things eatable and 
drinkable of this life. Then eager questions followed. What 
had happened to him? Where had he been? What was the 
explanation of that pleasing rotundity of abdomen and the 
flush of luxurious health on the smiling countenance? 

The P.irson's Story. 

The parson explained. On the night of the movement toward 
the hills near Fairfax he had found a carbine on his breast in the 
darkness and a voice had ordered him to surrender, which he did 
without discussion, when he was conducted to Fairfax Court 
House. The next day he was confronted by the commandant 
of the place, Sir Percy Wyndham, an English officer of impos- 
ing splendor in dress and bearing — the same who had planned 
the "bagging" of Ashby in the Valley campaign, but had been 
" bagged "' by Ashby near Cross Keys. The parson described 
the colonel as a military dandy of the first water, with long 
curls, and a profusion of gold lace. Then the following pithy 
dialogue ensued: — 

"Who are you?" said Col. Percy Wyndham. 

" I am Parson , of the Confederate States army." 

"A parson? And they captured you?" 

"It looks like it, colonel." 

"Well, they did a d d foolish thing! Capture a parson! 

Well, parson, as you have been brought into my lines, you must 
go back via Washington and Fortress Monroe." 



580 CAMP AND FIELD. 

A Profound Bow. 

At the battle of Fredericksburg, however, the officer got even 
with the general. Just before the splendid charge of General 
Meade on the Confederate right the young officer had been sent 
with an order, and returning to report found that Stuart had 
ridden to the front. The officer therefore followed, and close to 
the Federal line found the general reconnoitering from behind 
a cedar hedge. The field was covered with fog, behind which 
General Meade's thunder slumbered, and Stuart was peering 
through his field glass to pierce it when a gun roared in front. 
A moment afterwards a shell grazed the top of the hedge and 
General Stuart made it a profound bow. As he raised his head 
he saw his staff officer looking at him and laughing. They 
were even on the subject of dodging. 

Fun and Frolic. 

It is always a great pleasure to me to recall Stuart, whose 
fun, frolic, and spirit of mirth broke out in laughter during the 
very darkest hours of the hard struggle. He made a frolic of 
war, in fact, and nothing ever seemed to cast him down or 
made him in the least doubtful of the result. He was always 
laughing, paying compliments to ladies, or roaring out his camp 
songs when he was not fighting liard, or working hour after 
hour at his desk. Work over he went back to his cavalry fun, 
which nothing could suppress. Even at the head of his march- 
ing column, with the rain pouring in torrents, I have hear() 
him roar out, in his loud laughing voice, the song chorus: — 

If yoii get there before I do, 
Oh, tell 'em I'm a-comiiig too ! 

As he led Jackson's corps at Chancellorsville, he was sing- 
ing: — 

Old Joe Hooker, will you come out of the wilderness. 

One of Jackson's Jokes. 

The other Southern generals were more staid than Stuart, 
but the greatest of them relaxed at times, often when the times 
were critical and not such as would seem to offer much encour- 
agement to the indulgence of fun. Few persons were more 
reserved and quiet in demeanor than General Lee and General 
Jackson; the great responsibility resting upon them seemed to 



CAMP AND FfT^LD 581 

make them grave, but they, too, had their moments of humor- 
ous enjoyment. JWith the famous General Stonewall the humor 
was quiet, but genuine, as dn the occasion of his capture of 
Harper's Ferry, in September, 1862. As he entered the town a 
man on horseback approached at full gallop and announced to 
him with breathless excitement that General McClellan was 
near with an immense army, when Jackson asked in a matter- 
of-fact tone if the Federal commander had many beef cattle 
with him. The reply was that he had countless numbers, and 
Jackson said, with his dry smile: " Well, I can whip any army 
that comes well supplied with beef cattle!"": 

At Jackson's Expense. 

Jackson and Stuart were warm friends and often visited each 
other at their quarters, when I was much amused by Stuart's 
humorous extravagance and his guest's quiet enjoyment of it. 
When Jackson was at " Moss Neck," the Corbin house, below 
Fredericksburg, he took for his quarters an apartment deco- 
rated with pictures of race horses, game cocks, and terriers 
destroying rats. The selection of these surroundings by the 
grave Presbyterian elder struck Stuart as irresistibly comic, 
and one day on a visit to Jackson he suggested that the room 
ought to be photographed. When Jackson innocently asked 
why, Stuart replied with his rich laugh: •' As a view of the win- 
ter quarters of Gen. Stonewall Jackson, affording an insight 
into the tastes and character of the individual!" 

When Lee Heard Firing. 

General Lee's position as commander-in-chief was much too 
onerous and full of anxiety to permit much indulgence in hu- 
mor. He was also of a constitutionally quiet and reserved dis- 
position, given to gentle and affectionate expansion in his 
family circle, but not to exuberant spirits on any occasion. He 
smiled frequently but rarely laughed, and yet there was 
certainly under this grave exterior a quiet enjoyment of 
the comic side of things, which displayed itself on unex- 
pected occasions. A mere word or turn of praise often indi- 
cated the great leader's mood, as when General Sedgwick 
opened a hot fire at Fredericksburg iii the Chancellorsville 
campaign. The moment was a very critical one, as Lee was 
enormously outnumbered, and General Hooker was advancing 



582 CAMP AND FIELD. 

to turn both his flanks. A young officer came at full speed and in 
hot haste informed tlie general of Sedgwick's attack, when 
Lee, smiling serenely, said: •"Well, I heard flring, and I was 
beginning to think it was time some of you lazy young fellows 
were coming to tell me what it was all about." 

A Chair with which to Mount. 

I have rarely seen General Lee really amused, but recall one 
occasion when he visited General Stuart's headquarters, near 
Orange Court House. He was riding an immensely tall borse 
and said, as he was going to mount, " My horse is so big that I 
think I ought to have a chair to mount." One of the staff 
thereupon ran and brought a chair, which he deposited beside 
the animal, when General Lee's face relaxed into a broad smile. 
" No, I thank you, captain," he said gravely, mounting without 
the chair and still smiling, no doubt, at the idea that the best 
horseman in the United States and Confederate States armies 
should have been offered a chair to reach his saddle! I am 
obliged to give these trifling instances of General Lee's quasi 
humor or to give none. Only one exhibition of hearty mirth 
under trying circumstances was given by him to my knowl- 
edge. We were retreating from Petersburg and had reached 
Amelia Court House, where General Wise approached Lee, be- 
spattered with mud and wrapped in an old tattered blanket. 
The army was starving and General Grant was coming down 
'' like a wolf on the fold," but at sight of the mud-covered Gen- 
eral Wise, who resembled a Comanche Indian, General Lee 
burst into hearty laughter. 

Ewell an Odd Character. 

General Ewell, one of the hardest fighters and greatest lieu- 
tenants of Jackson, was an especially interesting character, 
looked at upon his humorous side. I knew him very well and 
liked him extremely for his genuine "grit" and dry humor. 
This was often peppered with oaths, for it is no secret that this, 
obstinate combatant in the earlier years of the w^ar was very 
profane — a bad habit, which he completely abandoned after- 
wards, when he became, what is much more than a great soldier, 
a sincere Christian. In the first scenes of the war, however, 
the wiry, dark browned commander was full of the direst and 
profanest humor. All the army was laughing after the second 



CAMF AND FIELD, 583 

battle of Manassas at his reception of the intelligence that his 
wounded leg would have to be amputated. " Tell the- — doctor," 

he exclaimed, "that I'll be if it shall be cut off, and that 

these are the last words of Ewelll " One day, when he directed 
a private to be detailed as courier at his headquarters and a 
young Southerner of large wealth was sent for the purpose, 
General Ewell burst into delighted and enjoyable profanity. 

"Who ever saw such a d d army!" he exclaimed. " Here I 

sent for a man to run errands and carry notes and they give 

me a rascal worth f>500,000." But under this profanity and 

grim humor was a brave, warm heart. At Cross Keys, in 
Jackson's valley campaign, when he was forced to retire on 
Port Republic, Ewell was seen going over the battle field where 
he had just repulsed Fremont and giving the wounded Confed- 
erates money out of his own pocket. 

The Kiiii^ht of the Valley. 

The name Cross Keys recalls Ashby and his adventure before 
alluded to, that with Sir Percy Wyndham, who announced to a 
New York newspaper correspondent his intention to "bag" 
Ashby, but Ashby got in his rear and captured the colonel. 
My personal knowledge of this chivalric soldier, "the Knight 
of the Valley," produced the impression that he wae a man of 
great sweetness of temperament rather than of humor, in the 
broad sense. He would sit among his men beside the camp-fire 
and enjoy their gay stories or join in their lilting choruses; but 
the death of his brother Richard had saddened him. I never 
saw a sweeter smile on the human face than his or a gentler 
manner. He rarely laughed, but the smile was generally there, 
as I fancy it was when some Northern ladies at Winchester 
offered to have their trunks and persons searched for anything 
contraband. " Virginia gentlemen do not search ladies' trunks 
or persons, madam," he said. " You are at liberty to go." 

Stuart and Beanregard. 

Following these chance recollections I come to the famous 
General Beauregard, the hero of the early months of the war, 
more especially of the great collision at Manassas, where, al- 
though General Johnston commanded, Beauregard was the 
prominent figure, through stress of circumstances. When the 
great Creole first appeared there he gave little indication of any 



584 CAMP AND FIETP. 

tendency to humor. He was lithe, vviry, sallow of complexion, 
with the slumberous eyes of the bloodhound, and resembled ex- 
actly the popular idea of a French marshal or corps commander 
in the old wars of Napoleon. After the huge hurly-burly of the 
battle, however, during which Beauregard was seen passing like 
a god of war along the " serried lines " in the hottest of the fight- 
ing, I found that the military machine had a reserve of quiet 
fun behind the black, dreamy eyes, inflamed by night watches. 
He came one day after the battle to Stuart's headquarters in an 
old house beyond Centreville and dined with us. At table the 
general at first preserved a grim, but courteous silence; but the 
conversation having turned on the battle of Manassas, Stuart, 
ever fond of a jest, said: — 

" General, the Northern journals report that during the bat- 
tle you continued to ride a horse whose head had been carried 
off by a cannon ball. Is that true?" 

General Beauregard's black mustache curled upward and 
he chuckled. 

"Well, general,"' he said, "my horse was killed, but his head 
was not carried off. He was struck by a shell, which exploded 
at the moment when it passed under him. A splinter struck 
my boot and another cut one of the arteries in the animal's 
body. Th6 blood gushed out, and after going fifty yards he 
fell dead. I then mounted a prisoner's horse, a small, dingy 
horse with a white face." And, overcome by the recol- 
lection of the small dingy horse with the white face, General 
Beauregard's white teeth appeared and he burst into a laugh. 

Beauregard's Gallautry. 

On the same afternoon there was more laughter to enliven 
the occasion. A young lady, the daughter of a very great 
general, had ridden with her cousin, of the staff, to the vicinity, 
and dismounted at General Stuart's quarters. As she was about 
to mount again. General Beauregard and the Prince Polignac, 
who had dined with us, rushed forward to assist her to the sad- 
dle. The young Prince was active and gallant, but not so ac- 
tive or gallant as General Beauregard. The latter reached the 
young lady first, and, stooping, held out his hand that she might 
place her foot in it. She declined to make such use of a dis- 
tinguished hand and leaped into the saddle, to the regret, I 



CAMP AND FIELD. 585 

think, of the general, whose French politeness no doubt in- 
duced him to regard the employment of his hand as entirely 

rational. 

The Character of Fitz Lee. 

I have passed over with only cursory mention one of the gay- 
est and gallantest of the Southern soldiers — Gen. Fitzhugh 
Lee. We always called him " General Fitz," as a mark of re- 
gard, for such names are a compliment. The men of Jackson's 
corps dubbed him "Old Stonewall.'' Gen. R. E. Lee was known 
as " Mas' Robert," and Stuart as " Jeb" Stuart, following which 
came "Fitz" Lee. There was everything, indeed, in the gal- 
lant Fitz Lee to inspire a familiar liking. He was full of 
humor, as brave as steel, without any " official dignity" what- 
ever in his manner, but at all times the hearty soldier, loving 
his jest dearly and never in low spirits, whatever the outlook 
might be. He and Stuart were boon friends, having known 
each other intimately in the United States army, and when 
they met a wit combat followed, diamond cut diamond, I am 
sorry not to be able to report any of these brilliant encounters, 
not having surmised at the time that they would ever interest 
anybody. What remains in memory is only a vivid general 
impression of superabundant animal spirits, and inexhaustible 
gayety. "General Fitz" was, in fact, what the French call a 
type in person and temperament. He was a man of medium 
stature, rather stout, but active and graceful, with a ruddy 
complexion, an enormous beard and mustache and an unfail- 
ing twinkle of humor in his brilliant eyes, the picture, in a 
word, of the true cavalryman. He liked his profession, for he 
once told me so, and if he is a future governor of Virginia he 
will probably continue to regret it. 

"Nelly Gray." 

All the surroundings of war seemed to please him, and he 
was a thorough lover of horses, his mare "Nelly Gray" being 
a prime favorite with him. As to Nelly Gray she made a true 
cavalier's speech one day at Stuart's quarters. She had lost a 
shoe and limped, when General Fitz, gazing sadly at her, 
said: — 

" I wish there was some way for you to ride me home, 
Nelly," which ought to endear General Fitz to all true lovers 
of the equine species. 



586 CAMP AND FIELD, 

The general's fondness for music was great, and he was es- 
pecially devoted to Ethiopian minstrelsy and musical opera 
bouffe. At Fredericksburg and elsewhere in the winter of 1862, 
the soldiers were delighted with the performances of the " Fitz- 
hugh Lee Minstrels," an Ethiopian dramatic company, whose 
bill, with the casts is now before me, printed upon the dingiest 
of Confederate paper. The gayety if the "minstrels" simply 
reflected the gayety of the gallant Fitz Lee. I suppose he will 
come back to the memory of all his old soldiers as he comes 
back to mine, singing his jovial camp songs and finding mirth 

in everything. 

The Autumn of 1863. 

He was specially prominent and full of this spirit of gayety 
in the autumn campaign beyond the Rappahannock in 1863. 
General Lee made a circuit toward the mountains and swooped 
down on General Meade in Culpeper, but that excellent soldier, 
of whom Lee said that he gave him more trouble than all of 
them, vanished from Culpeper without leaving so much as a 
cracker-box. There never was a more masterly falling back to 
choose position to fight, for General Meade intended to fight, 
and said that it was like losing his eye-teeth not to have a 
battle with Lee. What remained was the work of the cavalry, 
and Fitz Lee drove northward from the Rapidan and struck 
the Federal cavalry at Brandy. He was "down on" the 
enemy; Stuart was in his rear, and in the rear of Stuart was a 
Federal column charging him. A cavalryman succinctly de- 
scribed the situation by saying: " Old Jeb has cut off more than 
he can chaw." 

The fighting then streamed northward and General Fitz 
planned the ruse by which General Kilpatrick was routed at 
Bucklands, called the famous " Buckland Races." But this 
amusing campaign is too large a subject. It recalls an incident 
of Gen. Fitz Lee's persistent gayety. We were advancing 
about nightfall at the head of his column toward Deep Run, 
where General Warren was executing the neatest of ruses and 
disabling General Cooke. Before us on a hill was a battery in 
hot action, and I asked the general whose it was. He was 
singing at the nioment a favorite song, with the chorus: — 
Rest in peace, slumbering lady-love of mine, 

and stopped to say: "I think they are Yankees." 
" What will you do?" I said. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 587 

"■ I mean to charge them. If I go under I can't carry out my 
great ambition."' 

"What is your great ambition?" 

"To have a company of Negro minstrels this winter^all 
mulattoes." 

And as we rode on my friend, General Fitz, "developed his 

idea," waiting tranquilly the return of the man sent forward to 

ascertain about the battery. As it was one of our own we did 

not charge it, and I have nothing more to recall this evening 

but the gay voice of General Fitz describing his great ambition. 

Perhaps he has forgotten the incident; it is a trifle, but brings 

back the gallant figure of one of the most gallant of Southern 

soldiers. 

Other Characters. 

I have attempted to outline those two gayest of soldiers, Gen. 
Jeb Stuart and Gen. Fitz Lee, showing particularly what a per- 
vading humor characterized them. Their staff officers were 
very much like them in that respect, and the " headquarter 
family " of Stuart was one of the liveliest families I have ever 
known. It might have been thought that they were intent on 
extracting as much entertainment from life as possible, as their 
term was short. Nearly everybody who "followed the feather " 
of Stuart was killed, — Captain Farley, the bravest of scouts, 
who had his leg torn off in Culpeper; Dr. Fontaine, killed at 
Petersburg; Lieutenant Price, at Chancellorsville; Lieutenant 
Turner, a cousin of General Lee, on the Rappahannock, and 
others were wounded or captured. 

One and all were gayest of the gay in camp and on the march, 
and Stuart had attached to his headquarters from time to time 
other officers who were characters. Among these was no less 
a personage than the famous Col. St. Leger Grenfell, who had 
fought in every land; was finally charged, I believe, with at- 
tempting to burn Chicago, imprisoned on the Dry Tortugas and 
was drowned in attempting to escape. I frequently conversed 
with this singular character — a tall, grizzled, stiff and thoroughly 
military man — but only recall in relation to him his extraordi- 
nary devotion to a bull dog, which would permit no one to ap- 
proach his master's horse. Another officer of the staff was 
Major Von Borcke, a big Prussian, with the most enormous of 
swords and the most jovial of smiles. As he has related his 
.idventures in Blackwood's Magazine, I will say no more of him. 



588 CAMP AND FIELD. 

I shall also pass over other officers, whose amusing peculiarities 
it would be ungracious to delineate; a general's staff is a family, 
and family affairs should be respected. Of one gentleman at- 
tached to the corps, however, I may as well relate an anecdote 
which was highly relished. He was acting as Provost Marshal, 
and near Culpeper Court House had under guard some Federal 
prisoners in a deserted house. 

The Lieutenant and His Sliadow. 

While waiting to be relieved a fire shot up without and threw 
his shadow on the wall. Taking the shadow for a foeman he 
ordered "Halt!" and drew his revolver. As the shadow did 

likewise but did not reply, Lieutenant ordered "'Answer or 

I fire I" advancing resolutely on his dark enemy. It was never 
clearly established whether he drew trigger or not; the legend 
was that one of his men called out in huge enjoyment, " Why. 
lieutenant, it's only your shadow I" At all events the incident 
made its way to headquarters, where, unluckily for the lieuten- 
ant, we had a visitor in the person of Col. Alexander Boteler, 
the popular member of Congress. Whether of his own accord 
or incited by Stuart, Colonel Boteler, who was an excellent 
draughtsman, made a vivid pencil sketch of the lieutenant and 
the shadow. Then by way of illustrating the scene he wrote 
beneath it: — 

" Now by the apostle Paul ! Shadows to-night 

Have struck nioi'e terror to the soul of 

Than could the substance of ten thousand soldiers, 
Armed all in proof and led by shallow Buford ! " 

Humorous Incidents. 

No doubt this mirthful view of the hard trade of war was as 
prevalent in the Northern army as in the Army of Northern 
Virginia, and I remember that in this very campaign we capt- 
ured poor General Kilpatrick's " battery horse " and mare 
"Lively," with which he amused himself running races in the 
intervals of fighting. Near Hagerstown, on the return from 
Gettysburg, a Federal major was brought into headquarters, 
where I was in charge, and his comments on his misfortune 
were very amusing: "Your men snapped their carbines at me 
and then halted me!" said Major Polk, and when he discovered 
that I had been unable to make some purchases in the town for 



CAMP AND FIELD 589 

want of greenbacks, General Lee having forbidden the troops 
to force Confederate money on any one, the major drew out a 
roll of greenbacks and offered them in exchange for Confeder- 
ate, saying with a laugh: — 

"All I want is enough to buy cigars at Richmond! " 

Laugliiii!^ at Shells. 

The "heart of hope " was probably as common in the Northern 
forces as in ours, but it certainly was seen at all times and 
places in the Southern army. The humorous side of things 
always seemed to be the first to present itself. At Petersburg, 
when General Grant had broken through the lines and was 
surging forward to overwhelm the handful in Lee's inner 
works, the men burst into laughter and greeted every shell 
with a loud hurrah. They were more like a party of school 
boys than grizzled men and seemed unaware of the peril of 
their situation. To the last they met the dire trials of the re- 
treat with the same carelessness — a spectacle so singular that 
those only who witnessed it can realize it fully. 

The Horse Artillery. 

It is impossible to even enter on the subject of camp humor 
in general in this place. The topic is inexhaustible and would 
fill a volume. All thoughtful observers must have been struck 
by it and wondered at the complete apparent forgetfulness of 
the horrors of war by the rank and file. Perhaps the most 
striking illustration of this was found in the batteries of the 
"Stuart Horse Artillery," attached to the cavalry, and recently 
spoken of. To mingle with this nondescript crowd of hard 
fighting men and listen to their songs and laughter was a 
treat to the student of human nature. The songs, especially, 
were full of rich or caustic humor. Now it was the quarter- 
master, who had 

Grown mighty tall ; 
He starved our horses to give a ball. 

Then it was an unpopular commander, who said at the ap- 
proach of the enemy: — 

We'll have some fun — 
Take up the road and hide the gun ! 



590 CAMP AND FIELD. 

And from these comic ditties the men, a number of whom 
had served under Ashby, passed to the saddest of strains with 
the chorus: — 

Strike ! freemen, for your country, 
Ashby is no niore ! 

Like Battles with Snowballs. 

In the cavalry it is almost unnecessary to say there was a 
reserve of fun and take things as they come, which largely 
sprung from their nomadic life and the shifting scenes through 
which they passed. But the infantry of General Lee's army 
were, in camp, like a band of children turned loose for a holi- 
day. The least trifle was sufficient to unloose the waters of the 
pent-up fun. The excitement caused throughout whole bri- 
gades by scaring up a hare or '' rabbit" is well known, and the 
comment generally made when the troops were shooting, was, 
"That is Jackson or a rabbit! " Whole regiments would pursue 
the flitting game with hurrahs as of opening battle, and the 
divertisements of the camps, generally, were as boy-like. One 
of the most amusing spectacles I ever witnessed was a grand 
battle of snowballs, near Fredericksburg, in the winter of 1862. 
Whole divisions engaged in it with the wild enjoyment of child- 
hood. The air was as full of white balls as it had been of shells 
in the battle of a month before, and as desperate attacks were 
made on the snow breastworks as General Meade's brave fellows 
made on Jackson's line crowning the Hamilton hill a mile 
away. There were, doubtless, bloody noses and cracked crowns 
on the occasion; but after the battle there were no gallant fel- 
lows lying dead in the snow. It is to be wished that all fights 
were like it — the bloody and brutal farce of war no more of a 
tragedy than this battle of snowballs. 




''<iJ 



First Colored Provost Marshal. First Vessel Through the Mississippi. 



T 



HE first colored provost marshal was ''jPHE first vessel to get through the 






Maj. W. O. Fiske, of the 1st La. Mississippi was the Fred. Kennett, 

Vols., appointed by General Banks. afterwards destroyed on the Yazoo river. 



CAMP AND FIELIi. 



591 



KEARNEY. 



By E. C. STEDMAN. 



to that soldierly legend is still on its 
journey — 
vj' That story of Kearney who knew 
not to yield ! 
'Twas the day when with Jameson, fierce 
Berry, and Birney 
Against twenty thousand he rallied 
the field. 
Where the red volleys poured, where 
the clamor rose highest, 
Where the dead lay in clumi:)S through 
the dwarf oak and pine, 
Where the aim from the thicket was 
surest and nighest, 
No charge like Phil Kearney's along 
the whole line. 



How he strode his brown steed ! how 
we saw his blade brighten 
In the one hand still left, and the 
reins in his teeth, 
He laughed like a boy when the holi- 
days heighten. 
But a soldier's glance shot from his 
visor beneath. 
Up came the reserves to the valley in- 
fernal, 
Asking where to go in, through the 
clearing or pine ? 
" Oh, anywhere ! Forward ! 'Tis all 
the same, Colonel ; 
You'll find lovely fighting along the 
whole line ! " 



When the battle went ill and the brav- 
est were solemn, 
Near the dnrk Seven Pines, where we 
still held our ground, 
He rode down the length of the wither- 
ing column 
And his heart at our war cry leaped 
up at a bound. 
He snuffed, like his charger, the wind 
of the powder ; 
His sword waved us on and we 
answered the sign. 
Loud our cheer as we rushed, but his 
laugh rang the louder — 
" There's the devil's own fun, boys, 
along the whole line ! " 



Oh, coil the black shroud of night at 
Chantilly 
That hid him from sight of his brave 
men and tried ! 
Foul, foul sped the bullet that clijiped 
the white lily, 
The flower of our knighthood, the 
whole army's pride. 
Yet we dream that he still in that shad- 
owy region. 
Where the dead form their ranks at 
the wan drummer's sign, 
Rides on as of old, down the length of 
the legion. 
And the word still is " Forward! " 
alono- the whole line. 



President Lincoln's First Pardon. The 1st W. Ya. Cavalry's Trophy. 



'Op'HE first pardon under the Presi- Mt T the battle of Opequan, September 
dent's proclamation exempted Brig.- ^' 19, 1864, the 1st W. Va. Cavalry, of 



Gen. E. W. Gnatt, of Kansas, from the 
penalty of treason. 



Averill's division, took the first piece 
of artillery captured during the day. 



FALL OF GENERAL MORGAN, 

>Ke f^amoMg ©©^federate Q^uoilv^m&n. 



A NARRATIVE OF THE DISASTER TO THE RAIDER'S COMMAND 
AT GREENVILLE IN 1864. 



LUCY WILLIAMS. THE UNIONIST, 

Braving a Terrific Storm on a Perilous Midnight Ride. — Her Hatred of Morgan 
and Her Passion for a Handsome Federal Officer. 



STIRRING ROMANCE OF ^^^AR. 

The Cireumstances as Noted by a Kentuekian of the Famous Division. 




N the last days of August, 1864, the remnant of Mor- 
gan's cavalry remaining from over three years of 
most active and dangerous service was encamped 
at Johnson's Station, East Tennessee. The ranks 
of these hard riders had been thinned by death 
and capture until, including recruits, the entire 
force numbered only a few hundreds. After 
Morgan's escape from the Ohio Penitentiary that 
portion of his command which was allowed him (a portion of the 
old division was refused him) was reorganized, companies being 
consolidated and regiments reduced to battalions. The men re- 
maining from the old division, together with such recruits as 
had been attracted by the fame of the great raider to his ban- 
ner, composed a skeleton brigade, comprising several battal- 
ions, numbering about five hundred or six hundred men and 
commanded by Col. D. Howard Smith. Another brigade of 
about the some formation and number under Colonel Giltner, 
composed Morgan's division in 18G4. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 593 

The men were, at the time I write of, much dispirited because 
of the enforced absence of their much-loved chief. Morgan 
had been dangerously ill at Abingdon, Va., and the affairs of 
his military department were in wretched condition. The re- 
sponsibility of command had devolved upon incompetent men. 
Instead of maintaining a connected line in front, so that con- 
centration of force might be practicable when necessary, the 
division had been scattered throughout East Tennessee, a bat- 
talion here and a part of a regiment there, thus enabling the 
enemy to approach and whip us in detail. Our men had been 
driven for weeks, a military experience to which they were not 
accustomed, and they began to say there was a standing order 
to retreat whenever a gun was fired. 

On the ^9th of August about half the command, as usual, as- 
sembled at the depot at Johnson's Station (to which we had 
fallen back) to witness the incoming of the train with a languid 
sort of interest and gather such bits of news and gossip as 
could be extracted from the soldier passengers, and to procure, 
when that Avas possible, a copy or two of one of the dimly- 
printed Richmond papers. Before the train reached the station 
the form of Morgan was descried aboard. His arrival was un- 
expected and, therefore, a most agreeable surprise. His men 
manifested their pleasure, in the manner most common with 
soldiers, by yelling with all the power of their lungs. He was 
greeted with round after round of shouts from the throats of 
men who loved him, and as he stepped from the platform of 
the car a hundred hands were stretched to welcome him back. 
This unusual commotion immediately aroused the quiet camp 
(only a few hundred yards distant), and ere the general could 
exchange greetings with those who had first surrounded him 
the crowd was swelled by hundreds more. In our then com- 
paratively safe retreat but little duty was required of the men, 
nor were they restrained by severe camp regulations. Grasping 
as fast as he could the innumerable hands extended to him, 
General Morgan replied in his natural bonhomie style to the 
cordial words of welcome from his men. 

It soon become known through the camp that '"the chief" 
would resume active command of his troops. Despondency 
gave place to enthusiasm, for it was known that Morgan's 
presence meant a renewal of those active and aggressive opera- 
tions which had rendered his command famous. But when it 



594 CAMP AND FIELD. 

was whispered half officially through the camp that. our chief's 
present mission was another raid into Kentucky the enthusiasm 
became the wildest joy. The previous shouting had been but as 
the gentle murmur of a zephyr compared with the thunder-storm 
of rebel yells that greeted this information. That night su- 
preme happiness reigned in our camp. Of course we realized 
that the road to Kentucky would be a bloody one, but each one 
hoped that he might be among the lucky ones who would es- 
cape death. A few days of hard riding and desperate fighting 
and then the hours that could be snatched from duty might be 
passed with father, mother, sister, or that cherished sweetheart, 
whose promise to wait for us "till the war is over" cheered 
many a young fellow. 

General Morgan strolled through the camp that night, laugh- 
ing and joking with his men with a familiarity that few mili- 
tary chieftains dared to indulge. He was rapidly recovering 
strength and lightly remarked that a few days in the saddle 
would remove the last lingering traces of his late illness. The 
idea that he was then, in all the pride of manhood and increas- 
ing vigor, in the midst of his trusted men, any of whom would 
most willingly risk their lives for him, nearer to death than 
when the anxious surgeons had but recently despaired of his 
life, never for an instant crossed his mind. He was too intent 
upon our contemplated raid into Kentucky and of the blow we 
were about to strike for our cause to give a thought to self. 
In truth it was not his habit to consider personal risk in any of 
his movements. 

As soon as horses could be properly shod and the command 
put in order for active service the order to march was issued, 
and about the middle of the afternoon of September 3, we rode 
through Greenville. In the streets of the town the line was 
briefly halted by General Morgan himself to give some orders 
to the brigade officers. He was to remain to town to dinner, 
and, having given such directions as he desired in regard to the 
disposition of his forces, the column within a few minutes 
resumed its march. General Morgan, as if to view the line 
as it moved by, reined to one side and there remained 
until the column passed. He was cheered, as he always was, 
and there, sitting upon his horse within two hundred yards 
of the very spot that would be stained with his life blood in 
a few hours more, he received the last testimonial of respect 



CAMP AND FIELD. 595 

and affection that his men, as a body, ever had a chance to 
give him. 

The enemy were entrenched at Bull's Gap, eighteen miles be- 
low Greenville, and Morgan was yet undecided as to whether 
he would engage them next day or force them to retire, by 
flanking their position and tearing up the railroad in 
their rear. He intended to be governed by the num- 
ber of the Federals and the strength of their entrenchments; 
but as it was quite probable that he would make uj) his mind 
to celebrate his return to active duty by a lively brush with the 
enemy everything was to be kept in fighting trim. Our brigade, 
consisting of the old Morgan men, was encamped on the main 
road to Bull's Gap, charged with picketing it and all intersect- 
ing roads that might be utilized by the enemy in a night march 
upon us. Morgan, however, was not apprehensive of an at- 
tack. The information he had obtained satisfied him that the 
Federals would wait in their stronghold for him to attack 
them. He was too good a soldier, though, to neglect any pre- 
caution because he had reason not to expect an attack. Gilt- 
ner's brigade was on the right and Vaughn's on the left, thus 
planting our brigade in the center and disposing our entire 
force so as to present a front extending over several miles and 
covering every direction from which the enemy might ap- 
proach. Vaughn's line of picket was confined to the extreme 
left and really guarded but a single road. It was a road by 
which the enemy could reach Greenville in a circuitous way, 
and one that would, in the event of a general engagement, ex- 
pose the Unionists to an assault upon their rear by either of 
our brigades to that right. Hence our commanding officers felt 
really no fear of an approach by that road, and deemed it safe 
under the military guardianship of Vaughn's men. The pre- 
cautions taken by our side were amply sufficient, but the 
limited confidence placed in the East Tenn. Brigade was the 
fatal mistake, as the sequel will show. 

General Morgan entered Greenville that afternoon just be- 
hind the advance guard and a short distance ahead of the 
command. He quartered himself at the residence of Mrs. Will- 
iams, a widow lady of wealth and high social position, who 
was intensely Southern in sentiment and an old friend of the 
general's mother. She had exacted of Morgan a promise that 
he should always make her house his "home" when in Green- 



596 CAMP AND FIELD. 

ville, and the truth is she felt honored in entertaining any one 
conspicuousin the Confederate cause, and the more conspicuous 
the more honor there was for her. She was an ardent admirer 
of General Morgan, and nothing at her command was ever good 
enough for him. It was Morgan's intention to take dinner at 
Mrs. Williams' and spend a portion of the evening there. It 
was not his purpose to remain through the night, and the 
change of plan which kapt him in the house led to his death. 
It was brought about by providential intervention, and illus- 
trates how events shape themselves to drive a man to the des- 
tiny fate has ordained for him. Morgan frequently availed 
himself of invitations to partake of '' square meals," but usually 
made his headquarters in camp, preferring to be with his men 
rather than sleep under a "shingled roof." He was accustomed 
to the hardships and privations of a Southern soldier's life, and 
could sleep as soundly under a hastily constructed "shebang" 
as in a palace. It was not, therefore, a love of ease and com- 
fort that prompted him to accept the shelter of Mrs. Williams' 
house on that fatal, last night of his life. He was, as I have 
before stated, just recovering from a severe and dangerous ill- 
ness, and the surgeons of his command all joined in advising 
the greatest care on his part if he would avoid relapse. 

Morgan naturally felt partial towards our brigade, because it 
contained the men who had followed him through all his dar- 
ing and eventful career as a milital-y chieftain. He manifested 
this partiality by generally assigning us the post of danger, be- 
cause to a soldier that was the post of honor, and by pitching 
his tent in our midst. On the night of the 3d of September, 
1864, our brigade was encamped in an old field on the left of 
the principal road between Bull's Gap and Greenville, and 
about four miles below the latter town. It had been deter- 
mined not to proceed further in the direction of the enemy that 
night, and as we reached Greenville about the middle of the 
afternoon pickets were detailed and all arrangements for the 
night completed an hour or more before sunset. The orders 
were that the men should be in the saddle by daylight the fol- 
lowing morning. Our brigade was to inove first and lead the 
advance, the calculation being that the command would get to 
Bull's Gap early enough to dispose of the enemy and occupy 
his quarters the ensuing night, if matters so shaped themselves 
as to make a regular engagement of the Unionists advisable. 



CAMP AND FIiRLD 597 

That od of September was one of the most delightful days of 
the autumn season. The heat of the brightly shining sun was 
tempered by a balmy air from the surrounding mountains, and 
the temperature thus kept at the most comfortable degree, A 
slight touch of frost had tinted the leaves of the forests through 
which we rode with varied hues, adding much to the pictur- 
esqueness of the fine scenery in that country. We had drawn 
our rations of flour from a mill that would have afforded a rich 
theme for an author and a picturesque scene for a painter. It 
was a solid old structure, the lower half being of rudely dressed 
stone. Its age was past the computation of the mountaineers. 
They knew by tradition that its slowly revolving wheel had 
supplied the earliest white settlers of that region with grist, 
and that the solidly built mill house, with its rough stone base 
and superstructure of logs, had been, in those primitive days, a 
place of refuge from the Indians. 

The pleasant weather accompanied us during our march and 
until after we had gone into camp, but towards sunset a sudden 
change occurred. The balmy breeze changed into a gale that 
whirled monster clouds through the air; the atmosphere be- 
came murky, vivid flashes of lightning seemed to dart hither 
and thither and peals of thunder rapidly succeeded each other. 
Everything betokened the coming storm. The men were 
hastily tearing rails from the neighboring fences and erecting 
"shebangs" and making such other preparations for a stormy 
night as their scanty means afforded. Loud and ringing cheers 
from that part of the camp nearest the road arrested our at- 
tention, and in a moment or two the appearance of General 
Morgan, attended by his staff, explained the cause. He rode at 
a gallop directly to the camp of the company to which I be- 
longed and reined up within a few feet of my mess. Though 
thinner than usual and a trifle pale, I thought he never looked 
handsomer. He was of noble mien and always carried himself 
proudly. In the saddle he was the beau ideal of a gallant and 
chivalrous cavalier. He always rode a high mettled thorough- 
bred, and his seat in the saddle was the very picture of grace 
and ease. 

Nor was his appearance superior to his elegance of manner. 
The man within corresponded to the man without, appealing to 
humanity. On one occasion a youth, in fact a boy, not over 
sixteen years of age, was among the prisoners. General Mor- 



598 CAMP AND FIELD. 

gan singled him out because of his boyish appearance and in- 
quired if his mother was living. The boy replied in the affirm- 
ative. Morgan ordered an instant parole made out for the boy, 
and handing it to him along with a gold coin, said: " Take this. 
Go home to your mother as fast as you can and tell her General 
Morgan advises her to keep you with her till your beard grows." 
This was John H. Morgan as he really existed, not as he was 
painted by prejudice born of fear of him. On that September 
evening, the last of his life, he asked of the group in which I 
stood: "How is Mississippi to-day?"* The response of the Mis- 
sissippians was in substance that their company wanted for 
nothing more, now that their chief was again in the saddle and 
ready to lead them. General Morgan knew that the reply was 
sincere, and with a pleased smile he answered: "Yes, I've no 
doubt the boys are all glad to see me back. You have been, 
served badly of late. This thing of running from the enemy is 
something you're not used to and I know you don't like it. 
But, never mind, we'll pay these Yankee Tennesseeans back 
with interest for all the trouble they've given you. We mean 
to drive the rogues out of this department and will begin to- 
morrow." He was answered with a rousing cheer, the invari- 
able response to his speeches. 

At that moment Dr. Kay, one of the brigade surgeons, rode 
up and calling attention to the fast gathering and now immi- 
nent storm, he said: " Come, general, you must get away from 
here or you'll be caught in the rain." Morgan retorted that he 
had somebody else in camp to see, which would detain him for 
a few moments, but meantime officers of the staff were directed 
to find shelter for him in the immediate vicinity of the com- 
mand. The only house near by was a double log cabin on the 
opposite side of the road, and as Morgan was earnestly advised 
that he must not think of risking exposure to the weather that 
night that shelter was sought in his behalf. The staff officer who 
visited the family reported that the occupants of the cabin were 
willing to offer such hospitality as their circumstances and con- 
dition afforded, but it was very poor. There was sickness in 
the house, the people were cramped for room and none too well 
off for food, but they would do the best in their power to accom- 

* The compadiy addressed was from Mississippi, though in a Kentucky com- 
mand. It was Co. F, of jNIorgan's old regiment (the 2d Ivy. Cav.), and had faith- 
fully adhered to him through all his fortunes as a Confederate leader. 



CAMP AND FIELD, 599 

modate the general. "Oh, well,"" he said, " we will not incom- 
mode these poor people. I will ride back to Mrs. Williams' and 
sleep there. Say, doctor " (to Kay), "do you think we can make 
it before the rain comes?" And with a nod to his staff to follow 
he wheeled his horse and galloped away. A moment or two 
later we saw him riding in a sweeping gallop up the road in 
the direction of Greenville. That was the last view we ever 
had of Morgan living. To escape a storm he rode to his death. 
It was the threatening clouds that sent him back to town that 
night. Was it fate or accident? 

General Morgan had scarcely re-entered Mrs. Williams' house 
when the storm burst in all its fury. It expended its force 
chiefly in rain, which fell in torrents. It looked for a time as if 
the very hills on which we camped would be washed from their 
foundations. The general was most cordially welcomed back 
to comfortable shelter and the hospitable Williams mansion 
fairly outdid itself in entertaining him. While the rain was 
beating upon the roof with a sound that rendered inside cheer ad- 
ditionally attractive a comfortable supper was announced, and 
at the table General Morgan was assigned the seat of honor. 
One of Mrs. Williams' sons, a soldier in the Confederate army, 
had returned home along with Morgan and his command and 
his presence added measurably to the happiness of his mother 
and sister. General Morgan, on all occasions an entertaining 
conversationalist, was the life of the table. His last supper on 
earth was made memorable to those surrounding him by his 
lively sallies of wit and the keen relish with which he related 
joking incidents about his career. The ladies and gentlemen, 
with a single exception — a woman — joined in the mirth of the 
occasion and their laughter drowned the noise of the splashing 
rain without. ' 

This woman was silent and moody where all the others were 
talkative and merry, and the contrast could not fail to direct 
attention towards her. She was a daughter-in-law of the 
hostess, a woman not yet thirty years of age, and possessed of 
more than average personal attractions. This was Mrs, Lucy 
Williams, who was as loyal to the Union cause as the other 
members of the family were devoted to the Confederacy. She 
was one of those personal illustrations of political perversity 
that the outbreak of the war produced in numerous families. 
All of her kith and kin by blood and marriage were intensely 



600 CAMP AND FiEI.IK 

Southern in sentiment, yei siie chose to espouse the cause of 
the Union, and the more opposition it met the more determined 
became her loyalty. She persuaded her husband to adopt her 
opinions, but could not move any of the others of his family. 
Her own brothers were in the Confederate army, but this fact 
did not induce her to look with any favor upon that cause. All 
efforts to interest her in the conversation at the supper table 
were futile. Her replies to questions were monosyllabic and 
the most ajiiusing incidents of the camp or field failed to evoke 
a smile from her. 

When her singular conduct could no longer be overlooked 
without seeming slight, General Morgan kindly inquired the 
cause of her low spirits. Her explanation was that she was 
uneasy about her property, which consisted of a farm lying 
four or five miles below town and just without our picket lines. 
She said that little farm and the homestead upon it contained 
everything in the shape of this world's goods possessed by her 
husband and herself, and she was afraid that Morgan's men 
would punish the loyalty of the owners by injuring the prop- 
erty. General Morgan assured her there was no foundation 
whatever for her uneasiness; that his men were under orders 
not to leave camp that night, and he added: "But, madam, 
under any circumstances your farm would be safe, as my sol- 
diers do not war upon women and non-combatants." 

His efforts to reassure her were unavailing. " While you 
are way up here, general," she said, "your men might burn my 
house, and though you might punish them for disobedience of 
orders that would not restore my little property." With an air 
of confidence he assured her that his men were not given to 
the wanton destruction of private property. But the lady re- 
fused to be comforted by the general's positive assurances, and 
rising from the table she declared her purpose to proceed in per- 
son to her farm. General Morgan, surprised at the boldness of 
the proposition, asked if she meant to ride four or five miles 
through such a storm, with the night so dark that she couldn't 
see her horse's head. The general was still more surprised 
when the woman announced that she didn't " expect to ride at 
all." Her plan was to reach her farm afoot. " Good heavens, 
madam," he exclaimed, " you don't really mean to undertake 
such a journey on foot to-night? Why, it's madness." But she 
declared with evident earnestness her intention to undertake 



CAMP AND FIELD, 601 

the trip, adding that she had walked the distance many a time 
and sometimes through the rain and darkness. 

Having protested as much as politeness would allow and 
having reiterated his assurances of the safety of her farm with- 
out in the least affecting her determination to go, he directed 
his adjutant to write a pass giving Mrs. Lucy Williams safe 
conveyance through the Confederate picket lines. When the 
pass was delivered to her General Morgan detained her, say- 
ing: " I only intend to assert my authority in one particular — 
you shall not walk. If you will go you must have a horse and 
I will lend you one if you will be seated until I can send for 
it." He then directed that an orderly proceed to the nearest 
camp and procure a horse that could be spared from among the 
surplus animals the command was usually provided with. 
Meantime he invited Mrs. Williams to resume her seat until the 
horse could be brought up. This did not consume much time 
and, therefore, the horse rrmst have been obtained from the 
camp of Smith's battalion, which was immediately in rear of the 
town, and not over a quarter of a mile distant. Either that or 
it was provided from among the animals belonging to the staff. 

Mounted on a horse provided by the kindness of General 
Morgan, Mrs. Lucy Williams rode from the house of her 
mother-in-law that tempestuous night with the rain pouring as 
if the very clouds were rent asunder; but it was not towards 
her farm that she headed her borrowed horse. Reared in that 
vicinity and having traversed it as child and woman with a 
freedom that the custom of the country permitted to her sex, 
she was familiar with every road and pathway. Instead of 
taking the most direct route she made a detour to the left, passed 
through our lines, and with all the speed possible proceeded to 
Bull's Gap. She was evidently informed as to the general dis- 
position of the troops, and perhaps she feared to trust her 
secret to the scrutiny of Morgan's men. It may be that she 
had a confederate among Vaughn's men, or that she was ac- 
quainted with some of them and felt that she could more easily 
dupe them. At all events she rode some distance out of her 
way to pass through the lines at that point, thus affording evi- 
dence of her unwillingness to encounter the more vigilant 
Kentuckians. 

There is no doubt that the woman had conceived the idea 
of conveying the information of Morgan's presence and 



602 CAMP AND FI^CLD 

surroundings to the enemy when sne declared her purpose to 
go to her farm; but it is believed that she did not determine to 
be the bearer of that information herself until after she was 
mounted upon a good horse. Her anxiety about her property 
was, of course, a pretext. Her object w^tis to get away from 
the house and past our lines, where she would have opportunity 
to find a messenger to convey the information she was desirous 
of placing in possession of the enemy. Early that evening 
General Morgan's faithful old Irish hostler warned him that he 
had " heerd some o' thim Union wimmin a whisperin' ferninst 
the fince beyant there in the 3'ard," and he "belaved there was 
mischief afut." Morgan, however, only laughed at him, and 
told him he was getting old and nervous. 

Adjoining Mrs. Williams' yard on the north side was an 
abandoned hotel building. It was then occupied by the family 
of a Captain Fry, a notorious bushwhacker of East Tennessee. 
Not long prior to Morgan's death this Captain Fry had been 
captured, and though our code condemned all of his class to 
immediate death, .without even the formality of a drum-head 
court-martial, this man was spared by Morgan out of pure good- 
heartedness. Morgan ordered Fry confined in jail, saying he 
should not be condemned without a trial to determine whether 
or not he was guilty of all the cruel and bloody deeds charged 
to him. The officers remonstrated against the leniency, but 
Morgan retorted that the man had a famil}' and should not be 
put to death without a trial. The incident of the capture of 
Fry is related because it formed another link in that chain of 
events which seemed to shape Morgan's destiny. 

Fry's family, as stated, occupied the deserted hotel, and his 
wife was particularly vindictive towards Morgan, because of 
the capture and imprisonment of her husband. She had no 
means of knowing that the ver}^ man she railed against and 
vowed to be avenged upon had interposed his authority to 
save the life of her husband, wiiich, under the rule of proced- 
ure in that military department, had been forfeited by his bush- 
whacking career. In the earlier hours of that evening Mor- 
gan's hostler had overheard Mrs. Lucy Williams and Mrs. Fry 
exchanging whispers across the half-decayed fence that sepa- 
rated the old hotel from the Williams' yard. The old man in- 
sisted that he had seen and overheard enough to convince him 
that " divilish sacret wurruk of some kind " was going on, but 



CAMP AND FIELDo 603 

as he could not give any intelligible account of his alleged dis- 
covery he failed to impress anybody with his apprehensions. 
It is pretty well settled now that the two women were endeav- 
oring to devise some plan to convey an account of Morgan's 
presence and forces to General Gillem, the Union commandant 
at Bull's Gap. 

The younger Mrs. Williams also had a motive for striking at 
Morgan, which should not be omitted from the history of this 
event. On a former visit of the general to Greenville, some 
weeks prior to his illness, a young and handsome Federal officer 
had been wounded in a skirmish and captured. General Mor- 
gan was, during that visit, staying at Mrs. Williams', and as 
the captured officer was plainly a refined and elegant gentle- 
man, permission was obtained to quarter him at the Williams 
mansion, where he could receive the attention of Morgan's 
staff surgeon. The wound proved to be much less serious than 
at first supposed, and in the course of several days the captive 
officer was pronounced able to travel to his home. He was 
paroled and expected in the course of that, day or the next to 
depart. Mrs. Lucy Williams had been exceedingly attentive to 
the prisoner, and her kindness was attributed to her well known 
devotion to the Union. Dr. Cameron, General Morgan's chap- 
lain, an Episcopal clergyman, half-accidentally picked up a 
prayer book in one of the parlors, and turning the leaves a 
paper was exposed. The name of Morgan upon it excited his 
suspicion and an examination revealed a complete and detailed 
report of Morgan's forces, how they were disposed, and advice 
as to the best manner of surprising the Confederates. Investiga- 
tion proved that the document was in the handwriting of the 
prisoner, and that it was intended for transmission to the enemy 
there could be no doubt. This was a clear violation of the 
terms of parole, and instead of going home the captive was 
sent to prison. 

Mrs. Lucy Williams protested vehemently against the pen- 
alty, declaring it would kill the man to confine him in prison, 
and when her protestations failed she had recourse to threats 
and curses. She called down upon Morgan the vengeance of 
heaven, and vowed she would make him suffer if he consigned 
the Federal officer to a prison. Her threats were regarded as 
the ebullition of a high-tempered woman, and nobody paid any 
attention to them. Subsequent developments showed that 



604 CAMP AND FIELD. 

tliere was more than a patriotic sentiment binding the prisoner 
and Mrs, Lucy Williams. She had conceived a violent passion 
for the handsome officer, who was not slow to encourage it, and 
it was for her lover that she was doing such fierce battle against 
the sentence of imprisonment. It is no slander upon Mrs. 
Williams to mention this, since her husband afterwards pro- 
cured a divorce from her on the ground of her infidelity to 
him, which was established by incontrovertible testimony. Her 
determination to avenge the imprisonment of her lover may be 
set down as another of those links in that chain of destiny 
which was being forged around Morgan. 

Through the steadily pouring rain, over roads badly cut up 
by the passage of artillery and heavy wagon trains, without the 
light of a single friendly star to show her the way, Mrs. Will- 
iams rode to Bull's Gap, reaching there towards midnight. 
Without giving a thought to her own condition or comfort, she 
urged upon the first Federal officer she saw immediate move- 
ment against Morgan. The indomitable spirit of the woman 
was manifested when the officer replied that a march to Green- 
ville that night was impossible; that a large proportion of the 
garrison consisted of re-enforcements, just arrived, and the 
horses were too much jaded for further use before " to-mor- 
row," She returned with emphasis that "to-morrow " would 
not do; that instant action on the part of the Unionists was 
necessary in order to avail anything. The officer could not be 
moved from his opinion by either Mrs. Williams' expostulations 
or entreaties, and with an impatient contempt for his reluctance 
to expose his precious person to the elements and to Confeder- 
ate bullets, she left him to seek General Gillem, the officer in 
command. 

She found Gillem, with some difficulty, as he had retired for 
the night, and repeated to him the urgent reasons for an instant 
march against Morgan that had been disregarded by one of the 
general's subordinates. Gillem hesitated. The woman, observ- 
ing his indecision, plied him with earnest entreaties to adopt 
her advice. "Order out your men, general," she pleaded, ''I 
can lead you into Greenville before the rebels know where you 
are. You can capture Morgan I " She admonished Gillem that 
Morgan, if left to himself, would attack the Unionists next 
day, and that a sudden blow struck might beat him and save 
Union defeat. Her counsels prevailed and as soon as horses 



CAMP AND FIELD 605 

could be saddled and the troops formed, the Union column, 
with that intrepid woman as its guide, was en route to Green- 
ville. 

Mrs. Williams rode at the head of the troops, and with an 
impatient desire to attain the consummation of her adventurous 
ride, she often encouraged the men to force the speed of their 
horses. It was a rough march through that dreary, stormy 
night, and over roads that in places seemed to have no bottom, 
so deep was the mud; yet through mud and mire, with the rain 
beating upon her, unprotected by even an oil-cloth and drenched 
to the very skin, this daring woman rode on. I have been told 
that she rejected the offer of a soldier's oil-cloth, saying she 
was soaked, and that it could do no good. With a military tact 
that would have done credit to a general officer, she guided the 
Union cavalry to the only weak spot in our lines — that guarded 
by Vaughn's men. Riding beside the officer who commanded 
the advance, she advised him when he was near the picket line. 
[I subsequently had these facts from the lips of this same 
officer.] 

In anticipation of the videttes' challenge and probably a shot 
or two from that quarter, the officer in front begged Mrs. Will- 
iams to ride to the rear; but with a courage as daring as her 
spirit was determined she disdained the advice and kept her 
place in front. Neither challenge nor warning shot checked 
the onward movement of the Unionists, and just when they 
began to be mystified and naturally anxious at what appeared 
to be an ominous quiet where an enemy was expected, the mat- 
ter was explained by the discovery of Vaughn's videttes fast 
asleep. They had, seemingly, concluded that their post of ob- 
servation was unnecessary or that there was no danger. At 
any rate, they had dismounted, disposed themselves as comfort- 
ably at the root of a tree as the situation would admit of, and 
folding the drapery of their oil or gum cloths about their worth- 
less carcasses had sunk into a slumber so profound that they 
knew nothing of the approach of the enemy until they were 
fast prisoners. With the videttes secured the military skill 
and thorough knowledge of the country possessed by Mrs. Will- 
iams became again of value. She led the advancing foe by a 
route through fields and by-ways which flanked the main por- 
tion of Vaughn's camp. Indeed, it was not until the enemy 
were well in their rear that Vaughn's troops were aware of 



606 CAMP AND FIELD. 

their proximity. Instead of promptly undertaking to repair 
the mischief done by a vigorous and determined attack upon 
the Unionists, the Tennesseeans simply defended themselves 
as they prepared to retreat in a direction that would lead them 
further from the other two brigades. 

Of course the residence of Mrs. Williams where Morgan 
quartered was the objective point of the Unionists, and while 
the main body kept up a desultory engagement with Vaughn's 
brigade a detachment headed for our chief. Some shots were 
exchanged in tlie streets of the town with straggling Con- 
federates, who, in disobedience of orders, had been having 
a good time wherever entertainment offered. The rattle of 
musketry had alarmed the inmates of the Williams residence. 
The elder Mrs. Williams rushed to General Morgan's chamber 
door and in an agonized voice cried out, "General, for God's 
sake, make your escape. The Yankees are in town! " She then 
ran to the chamber of her son to warn him and endeavor to 
provide for his safety. Morgan's first warning, however, had 
come from his faithful old officer, who, after abjuring the gen- 
eral to make all possible speed in getting away from the house, 
said, somewhat exultingly, " I tould ye them dommed Union 
wemmin were a hatching divilment last night." 

The Williams mansion, as has been stated, was situated at 
the corner of two principal streets. In the rear was a very 
large yard, filled chiefly with shade trees and ornamental 
shrubbery. Here and there throughout this yard vines had 
been trained over frames, forming such a mass of interwoven 
stems, leaves, and flowers that scarcely a ray of light could 
steal through. The yard terminated at a low picket fence, sep- 
arating it from a church, which occupied the street corner back 
of the Williams place. 

As soon as General Morgan could draw on his boots and 
pantaloons and throw his holsters, containing a pair of re- 
volvers, across his shoulder, he passed from the chamber he 
had occupied into the main hall. Directing several of his staff 
to keep watch at the front of the house, he passed to the back 
door, and there encountered Miss Fannie. Mrs. Williams' young- 
est daughter, crying and wringing her hands in great distress at 
his danger. Patting her gently on the head, he said: " Don't 
cry. Miss Fannie; I'm all right now." He had seen Smith's 
battalion drawn up in line of battle almost within pistol range 



<^A.MP AND FIELD. 



607 



of him, and naturally he expected that his men would immedi- 
ately give the Yankees something to do besides looking for 
him. He stood at the door for an instant, doubtless expecting 
to see the battalion move towards him, but it remained as im- 
movable apparently as the hill upon which the line of battle 
was formed. 

At that instant a company of Federal cavalry fronted into 
line, facing the yard with the evident purpose of cutting off 
his retreat, and as he could hear the steps of the enemy at the 
front of the house, exclaiming " My God, why don't my men 
come to me!" Morgan dashed into the yard and concealed 
himself behind one of the vine-covered frames I have described. 
His purpose doubtless was to remain hidden until an opportun- 
ity offered for escape. It is to be presumed that he was still 
momentarily expecting that Smith's battalion would charge the 
enemy, and that that would divert attention from him long 
enough for him to escape. But Mrs. Fry, the bushwhacker's 
wife, who from her house could overlook the whole yard, saw 
him secrete himself, and rushing toward the enemy she pointed 
out Morgan's hiding place, exclaiming, " There's the rebel 
general! there he is!'' 

There in that yard, in the little town of Greenville, on the 
morning of September -i, 18G4, John H. Morgan was killed. 
How we knew not. 

There have been various opinions as to the details of his 
death, the facts of which have never been revealed. 

The army of the dead commander became demoralized and 
many of them fled in confusion for their lives, while the remnant 
•left retreated double-quick. 



A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. A SUCCESSFUL RAID. 



W^llE only field officer left in Kemper's ^ERHAPS the most successful raid 
(rebel) brigade after the great ^^^ of the war was made by the rebels 
charge upon Cemetery Hill, on the third in September, 1864, when a large force 
day of the battle of Gettysburg, was came within our lines around Peters- 
Colonel Mayo, of the 3d Va. Regt. burg and captured 2,500 head of cattle. 



Relies of Qi^dersoHuifle. 

CLARA BARTON, AND HER WORK OF MERCY. 

By Mrs. FRAXCJES ». GAGE. 




N a small room on the third floor of a building in Wash- 
ington, D. C, I sit me down to pen this letter. No 
mirrors flash back light or beauty from these walls; no 
Vandykes, Raphaels, or Rubens create envy in the 
bosom of the passer by. Its plain, cheap carpet, its chairs, its 
tables, — for use, not ornament, — wear no gorgeous coverings, 
but bear the burdens of days of toil and nights of watching and 
weariness, in the form of ledgers, and boxes filled with docu- 
ments, that have been the coinage, every one of them, of ach- 
ing hearts. 

Yonder, in the corner, is a cabinet. A few plain board 
shelves are set against the wall, containing the most unique, 
priceless treasures in the world. No costly gems glitter there; 
no exquisite shells from the depths of the sea entrance with 
their splendor of color and form; no birds with gaudy plumage 
remind us of nature's magnificerfce in some far off isle of the 
ocean. Nay, none of that! Oh! pen of mine, write quietly; 
oh I eyes, put back your tears. Cease, throbbing heart, your 
painful pulsations, while I tell the story as best I can. 

Come nearer; let us look at these things. The bits of tin, per- 
forated with holes, were once bottoms and sides of canteens, or 
oyster cans, grown old and rusty with use, gathered up by weary 
hands and pierced by nails to make sieves through which to 
pass the meal made of corn, "ground cob and all," which 
formed the rations of our soldier prisoners at Andersonville. 

The rusty oyster cans, with a bail of old wire rudely adjusted, 
were the kettles in which they gathered the bones, and reboiled 
them to make soup. Those paddles, soiled and grim at the 
handles and scoured at the base with constant use, stirred the 
coarse meal and water together into mush for starving men. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 609 

Those splits of wood, woven together like chair bottoms, were 
the plates they used. 

See you these little wooden troughs, whittled with a jack-knife, 
rough, tiny, some not holding a half -pint? They held the 
meager meal when cooked. These are the spoons of wood that 
conveyed the loathsome food to their famished lips. These 
cows' horns, wrought into drinking cups; these little tubs of 
chips of wood, hooped about with tow strings, served the same 
purpose. One oyster can, for which no bail could be found, 
has a strip of tin cut from the top, with short, narrow bits for 
hinges, and thus, as a kettle for cooking, was made to do its 
noble service. 

Those bits of board! Some careless, untaught eye might 
take them for kindling wood. As I write, I ask myself, is the 
theory that spirits of the dead linger around the scenes 
of joy or sorrow that they knew in this life a true one? If so, 
how many thousands are looking down this night at the 
thoughts I am tracing with my pen! Those bits of scantling, 
broken, unplaned, five inches wide, and two or three feet long, 
are fragments of the " dead-line " at Anderson ville. He, who, 
starved, maddened, reckless, preferred death to continued tor- 
ture, had but to pass this brittle boundary to be ushered in- 
stantly into the presence of him who has said, '' Vengeance is 
mine, I will repay." 

Turn this way. That board, leaning in the corner, with its 
black figures "7,60G'' at the top. is the head-board which 
Wirz — he has gone to his account, I will use no adjectives with 
his name — suffered to be placed where one dear and nearly 
akin to her who gathered these relics was laid away in that 
vast cemetery of murdered men. 

7,60G! Can you realize it? Seven thousand six hundred and 
six prisoners, who, starved, scorched in the burning sun, mad- 
dened, hopeless, prayed for death and found in their shallow 
graves surcease from anguish! And 7,606 is scarce half. On, 
on, on, — up, up, up go the numbers to 13,920 that have been 
found, recognized, and marked. Oh! God of mercy, is there, 
can there be produced such another record of the results of 
slavery as this! 

But let us look further. These bayonets were picked up in 
that Golgotha, and this letter box into which thousands, aye, 
tens of thousands of letters were dropped, but never one went 



610 CAMP AND FIELD. 

out to gladden the oppressed hearts of friends! Perhaps no five 
pieces of timber were ever nailed together that have enclosed 
so many tales of distress, or so few of happiness or joy. as these. 

This is the worn-out stump of hickory broom, with which the 
skeleton hands tried to keep clean ; this a ball from one of the 
many guns that were mounted on the seven forts surrounding 
the prison. A paroled prisoner asked of Wirz one day: — 

" What will you do with us if Sherman's army comes to the 
rescue?" 

"By tam! I puts you in the stockade. I turn de guns on 
you, and blow de brains out of every tam one." 

But, let me stay this fearful record, and tell how these things 
came to be4iere in Washington. Miss Clara Barton, in whose 
little parlor I find them, brought them with her on her return 
from her expedition to Andersonville, where she went, by 
request of Secretary Stanton, in company with Capt. James M. 
Moore, A. Q. M.. to inclose the grounds of the Andersonville 
cemetery, and identify the graves and mark them with head- 
boards, which expedition was inaugurated, at her request, by 
the heads of the department. 

" I gathered these things up," said Miss Barton to me, " and 
was told their uses at the places where I found them. I 
brought out some from the deep burrows our men had made— 
those caves dug out by their weak hands to shelter them from 
burning heats and chilling dews, and into which many crept, 
never to emerge again, till their fellows bore them to their last 
resting place." 

Was I wrong in saying her cabinet contained the most unique 
and priceless treasures in the world? Many a mother, wife, or 
sister would gladly exchange her gold and jewels for those rec- 
ords of the last days of some loving heart so frightfully stilled. 
One lady, looking at them with tears coursing down her cheeks, 
exclaimed, " I would exchange my diamonds for these." 

"Your diamonds could not buy them," was the answer of 
the heroic woman who has done so much to ease the sorrow of 
a nation. 

As I said, these tables bear the burdens of aching hearts. 
Six thousand letters from bereaved friends, who have asked 
her to help them find their missing dead! And still they come. 
Still the mother cries out in anguish and suspense, " What has 
become of my boy ? " Still the wife pleads to know of him who 



CAMP AND FIELD. 611 

was her all, whom she gave to her country to die for it, if need 
be; but not to be lost, uncared for and unsought. One hundred 
letters a day often lay upon Miss Barton's table, every one 
freighted with sorrow. 

Do you wonder that I sit in awe in this almost sublime room I 
Do you wonder that I ask, "Is the theory true that spirits 
can linger near mortals upon earth?" If so. will they not be 
here, breathing over this kind, gentle woman, to help her in 
her benevolent work? Do they not long to have those they 
loved, and who still wander in life asking for them, let into the 
secret of their fate ? 

Six thousand letters! Some of them giving the names of 
twelve or fifteen missing men, and each requiring an answer 
to the individual who wrote it; and five, ten, twenty, thirty, 
even seventy-five letters of inquiry to gain the information 
needed to reply to its queries. 

Some of you who read this have, perhaps, seen Miss Barton's 
" Roll of Missing Men," and her request appended to that '' roll" 
for information. You may suppose those names are all she has 
gathered, and wonder that she has no more. You imagine she 
has gone to the quartermasters department or muster-roll for 
that number. Let it be known that every name on that list has 
been taken from some letter of friends, which is now on file in 
her possession, asking for the missing. Most of these letters 
are from women, either in their own handwriting or that of an 
agent, telling their own story of loss and sorrow. 

Friends must be patient, thankful for what has been done, 
and trusting for the future. While Clara Barton lives and 
can work, she will not forget the widow in her affliction, 
or let the fatherless ask in vain, or disappoint the mother's 
hope — if it is possible to do otherwise. 

One thing more. Let it be everywhere understood this is a 
private enterprise begun and wholly sustained by Miss Barton. 
She receives no salary from any department of government, or 
association of the people, and is responsible to the people only 
through her promise to do this work. 



GENERAL GRANT'S RECORD, 

From Birth to Close of the "War. 




.\\X\KXNXXN\'V\N\.\\'V\\XN\VVvXN\'VVX->X'.'V '-V sV.Xn^' X^ XXXXNNXWXWXWXWXWXWXWXNW 

^^ '"^LYSSES Simpson Grant, born at Mt. Pleasant, Cler- 
P mont county, Ohio, April 27, 1832. 

Family removed to Georgetown, Brown county, 
Ohio, 1823. 

Appointed cadet at West Point by Hon. T. L. Hamer, 1839. 

Graduated June 30, 1843, standing number twenty-one in a 
class of thirty-eight members. Entered on the army rolls as 
brevet second lieutenant, and assigned to Fourth Infantry, on 
the Missouri frontier, as a supernumerary. 

Commissioned September 30, 1845, second lieutenant of 
infantry. 

Went in Taylor's army to Mexico, and took part in all the 
actions, from Palo Alto, May 8, 1846, to Monterey, September 
23, 1846. 

Transferred to Scott's army, and took part in the siege of 
Vera Cruz. 

Assigned as quartermaster of his regiment, April, 1847. 

In the battle of Molino del Rey, September, 1847, promoted on 
the field, by General Scott, to first lieutenant, for distin- 
guished gallantry. 

Battle of Chapultepec, September 13, 1847; officially noticed 
for gallantry by General Worth. 

Entered the City of Mexico with the army. 

Sent to the Pacific coast at the close of the war, and assigned 
to duty in Oregon, with headquarters at Fort Dallas. 

Appointed brevet captain 1850, for services at Chapultepec. 

Commissioned captain, August, 1853. 

Resigned July 31, 1854; spent a few years in business in St. 
Louis, and in farming. 

Removed to Galena, Illinois, and, with his father, established 
there the leather house of Grant & Son, 1850, 

Appointed mustering officer and aide to Governor Yates, of 
Illinois, at Springfield, April. 1861. 



CAMP AND FrT5;LD. 613 

Commissioned colonel of Twenty-first Illinois (three years) 
Volunteers, June, 15, 'Gl. 

Appointed brigadier-general by President Lincoln, August, 
18G1 (commission dated back to May 17), and placed in com- 
mand of the District of Cairo. 

Occupied Paducah, Kentucky, by a surprise movement, 
September 8, 1801. 

Defeated Jeff Thompson, at Greenville, October IG, 1SG4. 

Battle of Belmont, November 7, 1861. 

Moved up the Tennessee, and with Foote's iron-clads, capt- 
ured Fort Henry, February 6, 18G-i. 

Invested Fort Donelson February 11, and captured it Febru- 
ary 16, by the unconditional surrender of the enemy. 

Promoted to be major-general of volunteers, commission 
dating from the fall of Fort Donelson. 

Advance against Corinth, March, 1863. 

Battle of Pittsburg Landing, April 7 and 8, 1862. 

Placed in command of the Army of the Tennessee, April 13; 
occupied Memphis and Holly Springs in June; made command- 
er of the Department of Tennessee in July. 

Began the campaign against Vicksburg. October 25, 18G3; 
captured the city after a long and bloody winter and spring 
campaign, July 4. 1863. 

Appointed major-general in the regular army. 

Severely injured by being thrown from his horse at New 
Orleans, September, 18G3; three ribs broken. 

Appointed to command of the Military Division of the Mis- 
sissippi, October, 1863, and announced headquarters in the field, 
arriving at Chattanooga, October 23. 

Battles of Missionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain, Novem- 
ber 24 and 25, 1863, driving Bragg from before Chattanooga. 

Appointed and confirmed Lieutenant-General of the army, 
March 2, 1864, the grade being created for him. 

Arrived at Washington, March 8. 1864. 

Assumed commanel of all the Union armies, headquarters 
with the Army of the Potomac, March 12, 1864. 

Crossed the Rapidan. May 3, 18G4. 

May 5, 6 and 7, battles of the Wilderness. 

May 11, " I shall fight it out on this line if it takes all sum- 
mer.'' 

May 29, crossed the Pamunkey. 



614 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



Crossed the James and placed Richmond and Petersburg' 
under siege June 14. Constant battles during the summer, fall, 
and winter. 

Began the final campaign of the war, March 35, 1865. 

Battle of Five Forks, March 31, and April 1. 

Occupation of Richmond, April 3. 

Surrender of Lee's army, April 9, 1865, and substantial end 
of the war. 



COUNT :2owask:i. 



[An old man named Zowaski, ninety-two years of age. and a native of Poland, before Russia 
blotted that country from the map of Europe, was arrested in 18S4 by the town authorities of 
Fredericli, Md., and sentenced to thirty days' imprisonment for being a tramp. This unfortunate 
man once belonged to the Polish nobility with the title of count; served under Kapoleon on the 
bloody fields of Austerlitz and Leipzig, and was in the disastrous retreat from Moscow, where 
aO.OOO soldiers were frozen to death in a single night. He participated also in the unsuccessful 
attempt against the government of Prussia in 1848, and came to this country with Carl Phurz in 
1851. At the age of seventy, he volunteered in a Pennsylvania regiment, and served in the Federal 
army in our civil war, under General Sigel.] 



fONE, seated in the dim, gray 
light— 
' Look on him through his prison 
bars ! 
This veteran of the long gone wars ! 
This man with honest battle scars! 
Columbia weep, at such a sight ! 

Poor soldier of red Austerlitz ! 

Of Leipzig's stern and bloody fray ! 

Of Moscow's bitter frozen way ! 

So desolate hath come the day. 
That in a prison cell he sits ! 

This man that heard the thunder sound 
Of cannon that all Europe rocked ! 
In which all Europe's fate was locked ! 
Whose echoes all the nations shocked ! 

Now left alone ! No friend around ! 

He, who his manhood's bosom bar^d 
Near threescore years and ten ago, 
To battle's stern, relentless woe, 
Whose comrades long have moldered 
low, 

A common felon's cell hath shared ! 



And this, old man, is your reward? 
For this, at threescore years and ten, 
You served our country's cause and 

when 
You needed help, we gave you then — 

Imprisonment? A tui-nkey guard? 

What charge is laid against thy door? 

Thy trembling hands with palsy 
numb. 

Hath murder stain upon them come ? 

Doth such a crime pursue thee home ? 
No ! Heaven only made thee poor ! 

Because of lucre thou hast not, 
Of what avail are all thy deeds ? 
Who cares to know thy bitter needs? 
While God is served by Mammon's 
creeds. 

Thou mayest like a felon rot. 

Columbia ! This is thine own son ; 
His wrongs reproach thee for redress; 
He came from far off lands to press 
His service in thy sore distress. 

Be thy decree, " Be justice done ! " 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



615 



THOMAS AT GKIGKAMAaSA. 

By KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD. 



[The incident upon which the following poem is based, is related by General James B. Steed- 
man, as occurring when he reported with lour thousand fresh troops to General Thomas, at 
Chickaniauga. 



field 



that 



hills 



jT was that fierce contested 
M'heii Chickaniauga lay 
Beneath the wild tornado 
5^2 swept her ])nde away; 
Her dimpling dales and circling 

dyed crimson with the flood 
That had its sources in the springs that 
throb with human blood. 

" Go, say to General Harker to re- 

enlorce his right ! " 
Said Thomas to his aide-de-camp when 

wildly went the fight; 
In front the battle thundered, it roared 

both right and left, 
But like a rock, " Pap " Thomas stood 

upon the crested cleft. 

" Where will I find you, (General, when 

I return? " tlie aide 
Leaned on his bridle rein to wait the 

answer Thomas made; 
The old chief like a lion turned, his 

pale lips set and sere, 
And shook his mane and stamped his 

foot and fiercely answered, 

" Here! " 



Who does not mind that sturdy form, 

that steady heart and hand, 
That calm repose and gallant mien, 

that courage high and grand ? 
O God, who givest nations men to 

meet their lofty needs, 
Vouchsafe another Thomas when our 

country prostrate bleeds ! 

They fought with all the fortitude of 

earnest men and true, — 
The men who wore the rebel gray, the 

men who wore the blue ; 
And those, they fought most valiantly 

for petty state and clan. 
And these, for truer Union and the 

brotherhood of man. 

They come, those hurling legions, with 

banners splashed with blood. 
They dash against our columns with 

mighty shock and thud ; 
Till 'neath the blistering iron hail the 

shy and frightened deer 
Go scurrying from their forest haunts 

to plunge in wilder fear. 



The floodtide of fraternal strife rolled Beyond, our lines are broken, and now 

upward to his feet, in frenzied rout 

And, like the breakers on the shore. The flower of the Cumberland has 

the thunderous clamors beat; swiftly faced about; 

The sad earth rocked and reeled with And horse and foot and coloi-guard 

woe, the earth shrieked out in pain, are reeling rear and van, 

And hill and vale 'vere groaning with And in the awful panic man forgets that 

the burden of the slain. he is man. 



616 



CAMP AND FiELl». 



Now Bragg, witli pride exultant, above 

our broken wings 
The might of all his army against 

" Pap " Thomas brings; 
They're massing to the right of him, 

they're massing to the left, 
Ah, God be with our hero who holds 

the crested cleft ! 

Blow, blow, ye echoing bugles ; give 
answer, screaming shell ; 

Go, belch your murderous fury, ye bat- 
teries of hell ; 

Ring out, O impious musket ; spin on, 
O shattering shot, — 

Our smoke encircled hero, he hears but 
heeds ye not ! 

Now steady, men, now steady! make one 

more valiant stand, 
For gallant Steedman's coming, his 

forces well in hand ! 
Close up your shattered columns, take 

steady aim and true. 
The chief who loves you as his life will 

live or die with you ! 

By solid columns on they come, by 
columns they are hurled. 

As down the eddying rapids the storm- 
swept booms are whirled ; 

And when the ammunition fails, O 
moment drear and dread, 

The hero loads his musket from the 
rounds of comrades dead. 

God never set His signet on the hearts 

of braver men, 
Or fi^ed the goal of victory on higher 

heights than then ; 



With bayonets and nuiskets clubbed, 
tiiey close the rush aiui roar; 

Their stepping stones to glory are their 
conu-ades gone before. 

O vanished majesty of days not all for- 
gotten yet. 

We consecrate unto thy praise one 
hour of deep regret ; 

One hour to them whose days were 
years of glory that shall flood 

The Nation's somber night of tears, of 
carnage, and of blood ! 

O vanished majesty of days when 
men were gauged by worth, 

Set crowned and dowered in the way to 
judge the sons of earth ; 

When all the little great fell down be- 
fore the great unknown, 

And priest put off the hampering gown 
and coward donned his own ! 

O vanished majesty of days that saw 

the sun shine on 
The deeds that wake sublimer praise 

than Ghent or Marathon ; 
When patriots in homespun rose, where 

one was called for, ten, 
And heroes sprang full-armored from 

the humblest walks of men ! 

O vanished majesty of days ! Rise type 

and mould to-day, 
And teach our sons to follow on where 

duty leads the way ; 
That whatsoever trial comes, defying 

doubt and fear. 
They in the thickest fight shall stand 

and proudly answer " Here." 



THE DRUMMER BOY K. OF MISSION RIDGE 




Nov. 25, v'^^lTOB^*™ 1S63. 

WRITTEN BY KATE ^^6^*?^^^^ BROWNLEE SHERWOOD. 



[^To John S. Kountz, commandar of the Depart niprd of Ohio, G. A. R., this storj/ 
of his experience at Mission Ridge, ivhile serving as drummer boy of the 'Slth O, V. 
I. is dedicated, as a slight testimonial to his courage on the field of battle, and his 
fidelity to the veteran's bond of union, " Fraternity, Charity, and Loyalty."'] 



IJwID ever you hear of the Drummer Boy of Mission Ridge who lay 
'-',^i^ With his face to the foe, 'neath the enemy's guns in the charge of that 
^ o terrible day? 

They were firing above him and firing below, and the tempest of shot and shell 
Was raging like death as he moaned in his pain, by the breastworks where he fell. 

We had burnished our muskets and filled our canteens, as we waited for orders 

that morn — 
Who knows when the soldier is dying of thirst, where the wounded are wailing 

forlorn ? — 
When forth from the squad that was ordered back from the burst of that 

furious fire 
Our Drummer Boy came and his face was aflame with the light of a noble desire. 

" Go back with your corps," our colonel had said, but he waited the moment when 
He might follow the ranks and shoulder a gun with the best of us bearded men ; 
And so when the signals from old Fort Wood set an army of veterans wild 
He flung down his drum, which spun down the hill like the ball of a wayward child. 

And so he fell in with the foremost ranks of brave old Company G, 

As we charged by the flank, with our colors ahead, and our columns closed up 

like a V, 
In the long swinging lines of that splendid advance, when the flags of our corps 

floated out, 
Like the ribbons that dance in the jubilant lines of the march of a gala day rout. 

He charged with the ranks, though he carried no gun, for the colonel had said 

him nay, 
And he breasted the blast of the bustling guns and the shock of tlie sickening 

fray; 
And when by his side they were falling like hail, he sprang to a comrade slain, 
And shouldered his musket and bore it as true as the hand that was dead to pain. 



618 CAMP AND FIELD, 

'Twas dearly we loved him, our Drummer Boy, with a fire in his bright black eye. 
That flashed forth a spirit too great for his form — he was only just so high, 
As tall perhaps as your little lad who scarcely reaches your shoulder — 
Though his heart was the heart of a veteran then — a trifle, it may be, the bolder. 

He pressed to the front, our lad so leal, and the works were almost won, 
A moment more and our flags had swung o'er the muzzle of murderous gun 
But a raking fire swept the van and he fell 'mid the wounded and slain, 
With his wee, wan face turned up to Him who feeleth His children's pain. 

Again and again our lines fell back, and again with shivering shocks 
They flung themselves on the rebels' works as the fleet on the jagged rocks ; 
To be crushed and broken and scattered amain, as the wi'ecks of the surging 

storm. 
Where none may rue and none may reck of aught that has human form. 

So under the Ridge we were lying for the order to charge again, 
And we counted our comrades missing and we counted our conu'ades slain; 
And one said, "Johnnie, our Drummer Boy, is grievously shot and lies 
Just under the enemy's breastworks ; if left on the field he dies." 

Then all the blood that was in me surged up to my aching brow. 

And my heart leaped up like a ball in my throat — I can feel it even now, 

And I swore I would bring that boy from the field if God would spare my breath, 

If all the guns on Mission Ridge should thunder the threat of death. 

T crept and crept up the ghastly Ridge, by the wounded and the dead, 
AVith the moans of my comrades right and left, behind me and yet ahead. 
Till I came to the form of our Drummer Boy, in his blouse of dusty blue. 
With his face to the foe, 'neath the enemy's guns where the blast of the battle 
blew. 

And his gaze as he met my own, God wot, would have melted a heart of stone, 
As he tried like a wounded bird to rise, and placed his hand in my own ; 
So wan and faint, with his ruby-red blood drank deep by the pitiless sward. 
While his breast with its fleeting, fluttering breath throbbed painfully slow and 
hard. 

And he said in a voice half smothered, though its whisperings thrill me yet, 
" I think in a moment more that I would have stood on that parapet, 
For my feet have trodden life's rugged ways, and I have been used to climb 
Where some of the boys have slipped, I know, but I never missed a time. 

" But now I never more will climb, and, sergeant, when you see 
The men go up those breastworks there, just stoop and waken me ; 
For though I cannot make the charge and join the cheers that rise, 
I may forget my pain to see the old flag kiss the skies." 



CAMP AND FIELD. 619 

Well, iu w as hard to treat him so — his poor limb sliattered sore — 

But I raised him to my shoulder and to the surgeon bore, 

And the boys who saw us coming each gave a shout of joy, 

Though some in curses clothed their prayers, for him, our Drummer Boy. 

When sped the news that " Fighting Joe " had saved the Union right, 
With his legions fresh from Lookout ; and that Thomas massed his might 
And forced the rebel center; and our cheering ran like wild. 
And Sherman's heart was happy as the heart of a little child ; 

When Grant from his lofty outlook saw our flags by the hundred fly 
Along the shores of Mission Ridge, where'er he cast his eye; 
And our Drummer Boy heard the news and knew the battle done, 
The valiant contest ended, and the glorious victory won ; 

Then he smiled in all his agony beneath the surgeon's steel. 
And joyed that his the blood to flow his country's woes to heal ; 
And his bright, black eyes so yearning grew strangly glad and wide — 
I think that in that hour of joy he would have gladly died. 

Ah, ne'er again our ranks were cheered by our little Drummer's drum, 
When rub, rub, rub-adub-dub, we knew that our hero had come ; 
Beat brisk at morn, beat sharp at eve, rolled long when it called to arms, 
With rub, rub, rub-adub-dub, 'mid the clamor of rude alarms ! 

Ah, ne'er again our black-eyed boy looked up in the veteran's face, 
To waken thoughts of his childi'en safe in mother love's embrace 1 
O, ne'er again with tripping feet he ran with the other boys, — 
His budding hopes were cast away as they were idle toys. 

But ever in our hearts he dwells, with a grace that never is old, 

For him the heart to duty wed can nevermore grow cold, 

His heart the hero's heart, we name the loyal, true, and brave — 

The heart of the soldier hoar and gray, of the lad in his Southern grave I 

And when they tell of their heroes, and. the laurels they have won — 
Of the scars they are doomed to carry, of the deeds that they have done ; 
Of the honor to be biding among the ghastly dead. 
The gory sod beneath them, the bursting shell o'erhead, 

My heart goes back to Mission Ridge and the Drummer Boy who lay 
With his face to the foe, 'neath the enemy's guns, in the charge of that terrible day; 
And I say that the land that bears such sons is crowned and dowered with all 
The dear God giveth nations to stay them lest they fall. 

O, glory of Mission Ridge, stream on, like the roseate light of morn, 

On the sons that now are living, on the sons that are yet unborn ! 

And cheers for our comrades living and tears for those passed away! 

And three times three foi- the Drummer Boy who fought at the front that day I 




HISTORY OF THE STARS AND STRIPES. 



fVERY nation has its symbolic ensign. Some have beasts, birds, fishes or 
reptiles in their banners. Our forefathers chose the stars and stripes, the 
red telling of the blood shed by them for then- country ; the blue, of the 
heavens and their protection, and the stars represent a constellation of States. 
The idea was taken from the constellation Lyra, which signifies harmony. The 
blue of the field was taken from the edges of the Covenanters' banner, significant 
of the league and covenant against oppression, involving the virtues of vigilance, 
perseverance, and justice. The thirteen stripes and stars sliowed the number of the 
united colonies. The whole was a blending of the various flags previous to the 
Union flag — the red one of the army and the white one of the floating batteries. 
The red color denotes daring and defiance, and the white purity. 

Our banner with its stars and stripes is a familiar object ; everybody has seen 
it and admired it, and no wonder, for it is the handsomest flag in the world. 
Red. white, and blue — those alternate red and white stripes in beautiful con- 
trast with the blue field bedecked with stars, as though a piece of the sky had 
been taken to add more beauty to our national emblem, which makes it, in 
truth, " The Star Spangled Banner." 

The first flag, combining thirteen stars and thirteen stripes, was made in Phil- 
adelphia, by Mrs, John Ross, in a small two-story house. No. 2:59 Arch street 
(house still standing). A committee of Congress, accompanied by (ieneral 
Washington, called upon Mrs. Ross and engaged her to make a flag from a drawing 
made by General Washington, with pencil, in her back parlor. The flag thus 
designed was adopted by a resolution of Congress, on the 14th of June, 1777. 

Early in 1794, in consequence of the admission of Vermont, Marcli, 1791, and 
Kentucky, June, 1792, into the Union, an act was passed increasing the stars and 
stripes from thirteen to fifteen, to take effect May, 1795. 

The admission of the States of Tenne'ssee, Ohio, Louisiana, and Indiana made 
changes in the flag necessary. Accordingly, on the admission of Indiana, a com- 
mittee was appointed, and through the exertion of Hon. Peter Wendover, of 
New York, the following law was enacted : — 

AN ACT TO ESTABLISH THE FLAG OE THE UNITED STATES. 

Section 1. — Be.it enacted, etc.. Tlifit from and after the fourth day of July next, the flag of 
the United States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternate red and white; that the union have 
twenty stars, white in a blue field. 

Sec. 2. — And be it further enacted. That on the admission of every new State into the Union 
one star be added to the union of the flag, and that such addition shall take effect on the fourth 
of July next succeeding such admission. 

Approved April 4, 1818. 

Fifty million people of this country honor, love, revere, and recognize this flag 
as the national ensign. The little child plays with it as a toy and the strong man 
forsakes home and family, and, if need be, lays down his life to pi-otect its honor 
Its mute eloquence needs no aid to interpret its significance. Fidelity to the 
Union blazes from its stars, allegiance to the government beneath which we live 
is wrapped in its folds. 



ieFiercar Pembe:rt©Fi's ©eatS. 



PEACEFUL CLOSE OF THE STIRRING CAREER OF THE DEFENDER OFVICKSBURG. 




FTER a long career of disappointment and daring as a 
soldier, succeeded by several years of unobtrusive 
private life, Lieut. -Gen. J. C. Pemberton, commander 
of the Confederate forces at the fall of Vicksburg, died 
on July 13, 1881, at Penllyn, a pleasant suburb of Phil- 
adelphia, on the Pennsylvania railroad. Philadelphia was his 
home, the place where he was born, and in the trying hours of 
his last illness he had the consolation that comes from the 
presence around his bedside of old friends and the members 
of his family. 

The name of Gen. John C. Pemberton will always be as- 
sociated with the siege of Vicksburg and his stubborn defense 
of that "iron fortress of the Mississippi," as the Confederates 
called it, against the army of General Grant. He was one of 
the victims of the war, for in the only great work he had an op- 
portunity to do, he was, from the first, in a hopeless position. 
General Pemberton was one of the officers of the regular army 
who resigned his commission at the breaking out of the war of 
the rebellion. He was a native of Philadelphia and was born 
in 1817. He graduated from West Point in 1837, served with 
distinction in the Mexican war, and at the time of his resigna- 
tion was a captain. On entering the Confederate service he 
was made a lieutenant-colonel of cavalry and assistant adjutant- 
general to Gen. Joseph E. Johnston. Without seeing any 
service he was promoted to a lieutenant-general in the 
provisional army and was put in command of the Confederate 
forces in Northern Mississippi, where the advancing army of 
Grant found him in the spring of 18G3. His two brothers fought 
against him in the Union ranks. Pemberton considered Vicks- 
burg the most important point in the Confederacy, and when 
Grant ran his batteries and landed his forces south of him, he 



622 CAMP AND FIELD. 

foresaw that a struggle for the possession of the river was to 
come. Johnston was at Jackson, and both he and Pemberton 
were anxious to make a combination and give battle to the 
Union troops with a united army; Grant was, however, too 
quick for the Confederates, for even before a start for union 
had been made his army had been placed between the two com- 
mands. The siege followed, lasting through forty-seven weary 
days and nights. Whether or not General Pemberton was right 
in holding on to the place in the face of an inevitable fate, it 
cannot be denied that his defense was heroic. He had faith 
through the horrors of that awful siege that Johnston would be 
able to come to his assistance. His confidence was misplaced. 
Johnston never had a sufficient force to help him, and the op- 
posing army so closely hemmed Pemberton in, that at the end 
he was forced to surrender. This gave the Confederacy one of 
the severest blows that it received, and filled the North with 
courage and renewed enthusiasm. After the fall of Vicksburg 
Pemberton was under a cloud. He went to Richmond, resigned 
his rank as lieutenant-general, because the Confederate gov- 
ernment could not give him an adequate command, and as 
lieutenant-colonel, commanded Lee's artillery. His last work 
in the war was an unsuccessful attempt to prevent Grant's pas- 
sage of the James, by shelling his bridges. At the close of the 
war he was inspector of artillery, in command at Charleston. 
After the war he became a farmer near Warrenton, Fauquier 
county, Va. Here he passed a quiet, uneventful life. The 
farm was remote and isolated; and his life quite different from 
what he had been accustomed. He therefore gave it up and 
went from place to place until about four years ago, when he 
anchored in Philadelphia. All through his illness the doctors 
could not determine what was the matter with him, but the 
complication of troubles took him off at last. Most of his rela- 
tives, including his son, F. R. Pemberton, of F. R. Pemberton & 
Co., shipping merchants of Philadelphia, were with him when 
he died. At eleven minutes after five, bearing to the last the 
evidences of his soldierly training and a gentleness of char- 
acter, he passed away. 



I^(^i(2;^^e of Pi^i^oq)e;t^^. 



TERRIBLE SCENES OF SUFFERING DURING THE LAST 
DAYS— MANY DEATHS FROM COLD. 



HOW THE SIGHT OF THE FLAG AFFECTED THE BOYvS— SOME 

WERE DEMENTED-THE BRAVEST GAVE WAY 

AND CRIED LIKE CHILDREN. 



BY CAPTAIN FRANK E. MORAN, CO. H, 73rd NEW YORK. 




![HE fortunes of my life had made me a participant in 
stirring events and a witness of thrilling scenes. Born 
within a few miles of Niagara Falls, I had often in 
early youth stood on the cliff and looked into the river 
beneath as it bounded away in braiding billows of foam through 
the rock-bound gorge to Ontario. I had listened in awe to the 
deep thunder of the cataract and gazed in dumb wonder upon the 
majestic picture framed in the splendor of a rainbow. 

I had seen a beautiful city in flames, and mothers with their 
children weeping amid the ruins of vanished homes, and had seen 
the ocean in its wrath from the deck of an imperiled ship. 

As a soldier I had witnessed victory and defeat in the campaigns 
of McClellan, Pope, Burnside and Hooker; and had seen an army 
corps surprised, and in the full tide of rout and panic, amid burst- 
ing shell and showering bullets, before the cheering and charging 
lines of Stonewall Jackson a few hours before he fell in front of 
my regiment at Chancellorsville. 

As a wounded prisoner at Gettysburg, I stood behind Pickett 
w^hen his division melted away in my sight in the consuming 
blaze from Hancock's line, and saw Cemetery Ridge fringed with 
the waving banners of the cheering Union victors. 



624 CAMP AND FIELD. 

I marched as a captive with Lee's retreating train through the 
mountain pass at midnight beside the wagons filled with shriek- 
ing w^ounded, amid a fierce storm and crashing thunder, when the 
vivid lightning revealed only to the struggling men and beasts 
the narrow and perilous road that overhung the deep mountain 
gorge; while the wind howled through the bending pines like lost 
souls and hosts of pursuing demons. 

But none of these scenes, vividly as I recall them, ever thrilled 
and touched me with such depth and power as did the release of 
the Union prisoners, in which I participated and witnessed in a 
North Carolina meadow^, on the first day of March. 1865. 

Fortune and fame would have rewarded the artist who could 
have painted that picture, or the pen that could fittingly de- 
scribe it. 

The days of the Confederacy were numbered, and a general ex- 
change of prisoners was decided upon. But hope seemed to have 
died out in the hearts of the Union captives so utterly that little 
credence was given to the assurance of the Confederates that 
their liberation was at hand, notwithstanding the fact that a 
marked change in the demeanor of the guards and their officers 
w^as manifest during the last fortnight of February. 

Yet, amid all this suffering and despair, there was no faltering 
in their love for the Union nor a whisper of diminished faith in its 
ultimate triumph. Unconquerable love of country and faith amid 
unspeakable sufferings w^as the crowning glory of the Union pris- 
oners. 

Those who had their hopes awakened by external signs about 
them gave them no tongue, but jealously secreted them, as 
if possessed by some superstitious fear that speech might ban- 
ish the blessing for which their souls were wildh' thirsting, and 
v^hich they felt by some undefinable instinct was hovering near. 

They moved about like mute specters among each other; a 
spark of pity seemed at last to have entered the hearts of their 
jailers. 

The guards relaxed their vigilance, and conversed with freedom 
and some approach to humanity with the poor, defenseless crea- 
tures. There was now, indeed, little need of guards, for not more 
than a Corporal's guard of them had sufficient physical strength 
to have walked to the Federal lines if every sentinel had been 
withdrawn. 

The guards began to let the captives approach their paths, and 
°ven to pass beyond them to get purer water, and began to hand 
rhem tobacco and bread from their haversacks, like real battle- 



CAMP AND FIELD, 625 

field soldiers. The Angel of Peace had whispered to friend and 
foe. The "dead-line" had vanished forever. 

In the last few days of February the prisoners of Anderson- 
ville, Florence, Salisbury and Millen broke camp, and boarding 
freight trains and open platform cars, usually a hundred to a car, 
started towards Goldsboro and Raleigh. 

The Union officers who had arrived a few days before at Char- 
lotte, from the prisons at Columbia, where they had spent the 
winter, were also put on board freight trains and started North. 
Opinion was about equally divided between them, as to whether 
this was to be a journey to liberty or to another prison. 

The assurances of the Confederate commandant that they were 
really on their way to be exchanged was by many, whose hearts 
\vere sick from deferred hope, interpreted as a ruse to prevent at- 
tempts at escape while in transit to other prisons. 

But the unusual civility of the Confederates toward us, and the 
lax manner in which the train seemed to be guarded, sent "ex- 
change stock" higher than it had touched for a year; and al- 
though none dared to acknowledge their hopes, it was impossible 
to conceal the deep excitement which every brightening eye be- 
trayed, and which was consuming every heart. 

At Goldsboro the train on which I was with 1,400 Union offi- 
cers, halted for a few hours, and here, at daylight, several long 
trains of platform cars arrived at the depot packed with our poor 
fellows, from Salisbury, Florence and other points. The night 
had been keen and frosty, and it was impossible to tell whether 
the shivering and almost naked specters were white men or negroes. 
Our guards permitted us to approach them, and we scanned 
their wild faces in search of acquaintances. My brother was 
among them, and I repeatedly passed the platform car on which 
he was, without recognition, as I discovered next day. 

They could hardly answer our questions intelligenily, or artic- 
ulate more than to piteously appeal to us for a piece of corn- 
bread, or a bone, or anything, or to let them warm themselves a 
bit at some fires we had built outside the depot. 

The officers promptly made way and ranged the sufferers around 
the fires, gave them bits of their own rags, and gathered frag- 
ments of bread, which they craved, but could not masticate, with 
their swollen gums and their teeth loosened by scurvy. A very 
few had hats or shoes. Some kind women and men of the town 
brought milk, and we fed the weakest with spoons. Many had 
died during the cold night's ride, and I and others took the dead 
from among the dying on the open gravel-cars. 



626 CAMP AND FIELD. 

A humane Confederate officer, to whom I applied, gave me per- 
mission, with a few comrades, to carr\' a number ot the d^-ing to 
the boiler-room of an old saw-mill, some distance outside the 
guard's line, simply on our promise to return. 

The proprietor of the mill, a kind-hearted man, readily allowed 
us to arrange the poor fellows in easy positions before the cheery 
fires, with bits of blankets, old clothes and some straw under 
them. Those who could not speak expressed their gratitude in 
smiles and lookvS of pathetic and mute eloqvience. We pressed 
their hands and then left them — and forever I 

Next morning (March 1) the long trains started toward Wil- 
mingfton. I was with the officers in the advance train, and while 
I live I shall remember the strange, oppressive silence of the men 
•as the train approached the Union outposts, a large white flag 
floating over the locomotive. There were several stops for water 
•and for other purposes, and during these delays the faces of the 
men w^ere an interesting study of speechless and keen agony, lor 
the stop of a few minutes only brought cold perspiration to their 
foreheads, and put pain in every heart; and once, when the loco- 
.naotive backed the train for a distance, a cloud of despair settled 
over them hke a pall, and a silent but fervent prayer trembled 
upon the lip of everv mute sufferer. Conversation was aflected 
at times, but it was a dismal faihu'e. One hope and thought 
possessed their souls, and that none dared to utter. 

The dav wore on upon leaden w4ngs, and the train seemed to be 
creeping like a snail. At last it rounded a curve in the woods and 
entered a broad meadow, which was bordered on its eastern edge 
b}^ a tall pine forest. On entering this opening the locomotive 
slackened speed, snuffed like ahorse scentinga hidden danger, sent 
tip a shrill whistle, and stopped ! 

A prisoner in our crowded freight-car, with wild eyes and a face 
that revealed his agitation, rose, trembling, to his bare and 
bruised feet, and tottering to the door, clutched its side and 
looked out ahead. Every eye was on him, as he held his throat 
with the other hand, and bounding into the air, as I have seen 
men do in battle when struck with a bullet, he screamed three 
words that electrified every heart, and brought the weakest to 
their feet: "There it is!" 

We crowded to the door, the sentinels gave way, and we leaped 
to the ground in a tangled heap. Yes, thank God, there it was— 
the Stars and Stripes ! 

One piercing scream of jo}' went up from the famished multitude 
as the men bounded and fell out of the doorways of the cars, and 



CAMP AND FIELD. 627 

tears streamed down 2vei*y sialtied anS worll face as tlie oelcved 
banner of the Union, so long hidden from them, floated in full 
beauty and majesty from the top of a tall pine. 

Another rninute and a quick, eager eye caught another sight, 
and again a wild shout rang over the meadow — "There they 
are !" Yes, thank God ! Out from the tall pines a troop of men, 
wearing the loyal blue, came at a quick-step, their bayonets flash- 
ing, and an officer leading them toward us ! 

Some of our poor fellows, demented by their long trials, not un- 
derstanding what it all meant, but with the old instinct of escape 
upon them, took advantage, in the cunning of insanity, of the 
negligence of the sentinels — who now paid no attention to guard 
duty — and hid in ditches or crept under the cars, and ran as fast 
as their bare and bruised feet would bear them in the direction of 
their old prisons. The strongest of the prisoners chased and 
brought them back without assistance from the guards, who 
were now mingling with the captives and bidding them a kindly 
good-bye. 

Other trains followed, and soon a countless multitude of black- 
ened, hatless and barefooted skeletons in rags, and with wild 
eyes, swarmed out of the cars, the strongest carrying those who 
could not walk. All were ordered to stand and await the prelim- 
inaries in progress. The guards left us, and, led by their com' 
manding officer, started to meet the Union detachment apjjroach- 
ing in the meadow. 

They met, halted, and facing each other, presented arms in mil- 
itary courtesy, and came to an "order arms," leaving a lane 
fifteen feet wide between them. The opposing commanders shook 
hands, conversed aside a few minutes, and drew ])encils and books 
from their pockets. The eager captives were eyeing these cere- 
monies in a fever of excitement. The Confederate officer raised 
his hand and beckoned them to advance. Each man, clasping the 
hand of some weak comrade, moved forward, and silence fell 
over all, as if conscious that they were treading hallowed ground. 

As I re-entered our car to recover some trifle, I observed a 
young soldier lying on the floor, where his comrades, in their 
wild excitement, had forgotten him. At first I thought he was 
dead, but his eyes looked beseechingly into mine as I came to his 
side. He was a boy, apparently not inore than sixteen. He was 
in rags, barefooted, and a mere skeleton. In answer to my ques- 
tion his thin lips moved, but his tonguecould give no utterance. I 
remembered now that he had been put in our car at Raleigh, and 
was said to be an Andersonville prisoner, and a New York 



628 CAMP AND FIELD. 

soldier ; but no one knew his name ; his prison acquaintances, it 
he had any, were probably all dead. 1 bent over him and told 
him we were exchanged, that our flag and troops were in sight, 
that we were going home, and he must go with me. I would 
carry him to Wilmington. The feeble smile that lit his face and 
the light of reason that came into his great blue eyes told me 
touchingly that I was understood and thanked. 

Accustomed as I was to witnessing death in all its most dread- 
ed shapes, on battle-field and in prison, the thought of seeing this 
boy die now, pierced me to the heart, as my very soul seemed to 
hear the appeal of his far-away mother; and I resolved that at 
least he should not die a prisoner. 

I picked the boy up tenderly — his weight was not more than a 
child's — and a sentinel helped me reach the ground with him. 

Meantime, the prisoners began to pass through the lane between 
the Union and Confederate troops, and as I bore the poor boy 
through this gate to liberty, the eyes of the Union soldiers glis- 
tened with tears, for all could see he was near the end. 

As the prisoners passed the point of release in the meadow, they 
broke into a run, those who could run, and streamed in scream- 
ing hundreds to the woods, on entering which a colored regiment 
was drawn up to salute them. They were the first colored troops 
I had ever seen, and as the prisoners tottered by them in their 
rags, tears were on their dusky cheeks. 

Friendly hands had reared an arch over the road, and in leaves 
and evergreens we read the words, "Welcome, Brothers." 

The released prisoners soon increased to thousands, and as 
they tossed away their rags and threw their wrecked hats into 
the air, the forest rang with their screams of wild joy. The band 
was playing the National airs, and the strongest men and the 
bravest, who had never faltered at the cannon's mouth, now 
gave way and bowed to nature's majest}-. 

They embraced the trees and kissed the ground, and falling upon 
their knees the sufferers raised their skeleton arms above them, 
and with eves streaming with tears sent up an impassioned 
thanksgiving to God, as did the delivered tribes of Israel. 

Some good genii that day seemed to have hung Aladdin's lamp 
over our rags; w^e had only to touch it and the earth blossomed 
with blessings, and Heavenly mercy seemed descending on the 
freed captives as the gentle dew on Zion, 

Above them the flag of their country waved welcome to the 
wanderers, a flood of thoughts came thick and fast upon them, 
and their hearts were leapmg wildly in their breasts. Already 



CAMP A.ND FIT^LD. 629 

sweet visions rose before them; already their homes were in 
sight. The sweet melody of their children's voices, and holy 
sounds of peace and home fell on their ears, and wives, mothers, 
and loved ones were waiting at the gate. 

'Tis sweet to hear the honest watcli-doii's bark. 

Bay deep-mouthed ^velcome as we draw near hoine; 

'Tis sweet to know an eye will mark our coming, 
And look brighter when we come. 

In pathos, that scene beggars description, and can live only it? 
the memor\^ of its witnesses. I carried my poor burden to the 
marmn of the woods, and laid him tenderlv down under a tall 
pine, from whose top the Union flag was floating full to the 
breeze, and where the unknown boy might see it wave its bene- 
diction over its dying defender. 

A few comrades joined the sad little group and knelt. We were 
notlongdelayed. Iheld his little thin hand, and a prayer was said, 
and thus on liberty's bright edge, with his failing eyes resting ou 
his country's flag, somebody's darling lay. The angel of death 
touched his cruel fetters noiselessly and tenderly ; they fell, and 
his immortal spirit mounted to its eternal freedom ! 

As I looked into the tear-dimmed eyes of brave men that day, 
the words of the sweet old song came to my memory with their 
truth and power as never before : 

Go watch the foremost rank in danger's dark career; 

Be sure the hand most daring there has wiped away a tear. 

We followed the road like a disorganized mob ; no one seemed 
to be in charge, but soldiers in the camps that we wereconstantly 
passing, pointed us in the direction of Wilmington, and soon it 
came in sight. 

There was a group of prisoners who, in the diflerent prisons, 
had been my most intimate companions, and several of them had 
shared w^ith me in the perils and privations of five escapes. 

Those whom I shall here name had but a week before escaped 
with me by running the dead-line at night from the prison camp 
at Charlotte, under the fire of the sentinels. None of our party 
were hit, but a bullet through my blouse-collar showed a close 
escape. One poor fellow, on the same night, in making the attempt 
to escape, was shot and killed. His bride, hearing of the pros- 
pective exchange, was awaiting him at Wilmington, and a Chap- 
lain, braver than the rest of us, broke the news to her, while the 
rest pitied and avoided her. 



630 CAMP AND FIELD. 

My immediate companions were Lieutenants \Vm. Biei bower. 
Eighty-seventh Pennsylvania ; Eugene Weeks, Sixty-seventli Penn- 
sylvania; Captains Harry G. Dodge, Second Pennsylvania Cav- 
alrv ; George L. Schell, Eighty-eighth Pennsylvania, and Wm. H. 
Nash, First U. S. Sharpshooters. 

This group formed a subject for which a painter might have 
sought in vain within the range of civilization. We had all re-' 
tained the staffs used to help us through the swamps in our late 
escape, and our appearance collectively suggested the witches in 
Macbeth. Whoever has seen Charlotte Cushman in the character 
of " Meg Merilles," would have seen her picturesque costume 
outdone in that of Bierbower. Weeks' chief covering consisted 
of half a blanket, which he boasted had gone through the Mexi- 
can war. The number and size of its holes invited from Dodge 
the observation that the Rebellion had gone through the blanket. 
Dodge wore on his head the rim of a Confederate hat, and his 
long, light hair floated in a fantastic plume through the crown ; 
his pantaloons resembled, in their varied patches, the ruin of a 
crazy quilt. He had on one foot a broken shoe of immense size, 
while the opposite leg was hidden from view in the top of a tall 
cavalry boot ; but as there was no foot whatever to it, we all 
suspected that he retained it simply as a fond memorial of his 
cavalry service. 

Schell had no hat at all, his head being wrapped in an ancient 
bandanna. His shoes he had made himself out of the sleeves of 
his coat, and having no shirt, his arms were entirely bare. The 
dismal remainder of the coat was secured at the throat with a 
piece of rope, which gave one the impression that he had just es- 
caped a lynching as a witch. 

Nash, who was the tall man of the party, had, months before, 
in some unknown way, come in possession of a pair of tight 
riding pants, several sizes too small for him, the bottoms barely 
touching his knees. He had on his feet an old pair of carpet slip- 
pers, and as he had no stockings or underwear, and had a hood 
made from a piece of an army blanket on his head, and the part 
of a gray jacket clinging to his shoulders, he would have easily 
protected a farm from devastation by crows. 

As for myself, I was a poem in rags. I had the mere remnant of 
the summer blouse and pantaloons I had worn when captured at 
Gettvsburg twenty months before. The sleeves of the blouse I 
had long since sacrificed to make stockings, and now my feet were 
covered only with the sleeves of my old red flannel shirt. Strings 
ana A'ooden skewers kept my tattered raiment clinging to mv 



CAMP AND FIELD. 631 

fr^il form, for I had not one button in my entire wardrobe. I 
wore on my head the rim of a ehip hat, and what was left of my 
old flannel shirt, which I clung to desperately. It had now no 
sleeves, and from my frequent and nnskillful washing, it had 
shrunk to such a degree that persons at a short distance might 
easily have mistaken it for a coral necklace. Since it was of no 
visible use except lor my sore throat, I was openly accused by 
my friends of wearing it ibr mere stvle. 

If my mother had met me then I had no apparent means of con- 
vincing her that I was her son, except possiblvbv mv vaccination 
marks. Thus our group entered Wilmington on the first day of 
March, 1865. 

Several thousands of the released prisoners had ])receded us. 
As we walked on, without any fixed destination, in the middle of 
the street, soldiers and citizens gazed on the tattered multitude 
from the sidewalks and windows. None of us presumed to walk 
on the sidewalk among clean and civilized people; we kept in the 
middle of the street and trudged aimlessly, homelessly and hap- 
pily on. 

Suddenly, from a group of soldiers and citizens on the sidewalk, 
I heard my name called, and, looking up, saw a citizen approach- 
ing me with extended hand. Instantly, to my joy, I recognized 
Mr. Wm. Cutter, formerly the sutler of my regiment. How he 
knew me he could hardly explain himself, as hesurveyed me in my 
torn costume and dismal plight. 

In a few words he gladdened me with the information that he 
was now the proprietor of a large store, where he said I could 
get anything "from a needle to an anchor," and pav for it when 
Uncle Sam paid me, that solid old relative being then in my debt 
for nearh^ two years' pay as a lieutenant. He insisted that I 
should go with him forthwith and be scrubbed, clothed and fed, 
and restored to some semblance of a Christian. I gratefullv ac- 
cepted his kind offer, only on condition that mv destitute compan- 
ions might share in my fortune. To this he cheerfully assented,, 
and, after presenting them severally, we followed our friend 
toward his store, keeping at a respectful distance that kept him 
laughing the entire way. 

We entered the store, a substantial three-storv brick building, 
filled with soldiers making all kinds of purchases, and saw at 
once that the extent and variety of its commodities lullv justified 
his description. We pushed our way to the back of the store,, 
where a clerk proceeded to take our measures for neat, blue fa- 
tigue suits, shoes, hat and all. This done, we were led up stairs 



632 CAMP AND FIELD. 

to Mr. Cutter's private apartments and given "something to 
warm us." 

After a merry chat, a stout and smiling colored servant entered, 
and, bowing, electrified us with the announcement : " Gemen, yo' 
baffs is ready!" A bath! Clean clothes! Our dinner ordered! 
The steamer at the dock to take us to Annapolis next morning, 
where two years' pay and a thirty days' furlough awaited us. It 
was too much for poor tramps to have crowded upon them in one 
day. We melted under it, and cried again, bit our fingers, stuck 
ourselves with pins to be sure this was not another of those vis- 
ions of sleep that had so often been moulded from our longings 
and illumined those fearful prisons, only to fade in despair. 

We followed our dusky guide to the upper loft, which was un- 
occupied save by some miscellaneous storage. There was a large 
tub for each of us two-thirds full of water in a tepid state, and 
beside each was a chair on which was laid a pile of good rough 
towels and a generous chunk of castile soap ! I smelt the soap, 
fondled it, and had a powerful imimlse on me to eat it. 

Several more servants entered and laid our new clothes out on 
the floor. The outfits were complete, including underclothing, 
neat shoes, stockings, handkerchiefs, etc., — even tooth-brushes 
were not forgotten. Our names were pinned to our property. 

There was an abundance of good running water in the room, 
and we were told "not to be afraid of wetting the floor." The 
colored man swept our pyramid of rags out of the window, and 
they were promptly set fire to. He then left us, with the assur- 
ance that we would not be disturbed. We bolted the door, save 
three cheers and "went m." 

But, as the novelist would sa}-, "let us draw a vail over this 
scene." 

If the reader thinks this is giving undue prominence to so or- 
dinary a thing as a bath, let him put himself in our place and 
bear in mind that such a bath was tons no ordinarv thins, but a 
blessmg, rich and rare, and to ignore it in this narrative would 
be base ingratitude. 

When, in half an hour, arrayed in our new suits, we came down 
to Mr. Cutter's room, where he awaited us with "something to 
take the chill off"," he pointed us out with pride to several Union 
Generals, who had called in "to see a man." 

Here the fragrance of preparing dinner reached our senses and 
made us quickly lose interest in the conversation. But our kind 
host w^as not quite done with us, and our dinner would be ready 
in three-quarters of an hour. He led us down the street a couple 



CAMP AND FIELD 633 

of squares, and into a neat barber shop, where in a lew minutes 
eachof us was given a chair. Our long locks were neatly cropped; 
we were shampooed, polished with stiff brushes and combed until 
our scalps fairly glowed, and in a few minutes more w^e stepped 
into the street looking like nabobs and fragrant with cologne. 

We started back towards Mr. Cutter's, passing on the wav sev- 
eral groups of our late fellow-prisoners, who, being still in rags, 
made way for us and gazed after us in a puzzled way, and with a 
vague impression that they had seen us before. It seemed to us 
that these men had never looked so utterly poverty-stricken as 
now. We returned the salutations of those w^ho recognized us 
with proper courtesy, but as we had an engagement, we did not 
encourage extended conversation. 

We had gone but a little distance when I recognized Lieutenant 
John Davidson, of the Sixth New York Heavj^ Artillery, who had 
been with me in every prison, and he was now accompanied by 
an emaciated and blackened specter in tatters. 

Leading him forward, Davidson said: "Do vou know this com- 
rade?" 

As I looked at the poor wreck, a strange instinct, rather than 
any external sign, told me, in spite of dirt and rags, that I knew 
that face and form ; but before my study was completed the voice 
that pronounced my name revealed to me my brother Patrick. 

He had, unknown to me, been wounded and captured the year 
before, and had suffered at Danville, Salisbury and Florence, while 
I was in other prisons. He was my eldest brother, and was a 
private in the Fifth Michigan. This was my first meeting with 
him since an hour before the battle opened at Gettysburg, where 
he had bade me good-bye, his unvarying custom on the eve of a 
battle. He was indeed a sad wreck. I could not, however, in- 
duce him to return wnth me to Mr. Cutter's store, to be provided 
for like myself, preferring, he said, to wait until he reached An- 
napolis, for which place he was to leave by steamer that evening. 
I got him to accept some money and refreshments, however, and 
promising to meet me at home soon, he went off radiantly 
enough, enjoying a good cigar, whichcould ever make him happy. 

Poor fellow! The cruel marks of his captivit^^and severe wounds 
were afterward carried to his grave. 

As each of us stood there on the happy day of our deliverance, 
we little dreamt that our dear young brother Thomas had died 
at Andersonville six months before. Perhaps it was a merciful 
ignorance that spared us that one day of happiness in our soldier 
lives. 



634 CAMP AND FIELD, 

Our transformed party now returned to Mr. Cutter's store and 
were taken upstairs to his privatedining-room and seated around 
a large circular table. A door opened, and the aroma that as- 
sailed our senses was positively overpowering. Heaven only 
knows how welcome it was to men who had known the pangs of 
ceaseless hunger for so many dreadful months. We were survey- 
ing the white table-cloth, the napkins, the bright knives, shining 
glasses and dishes, and several general officers had asked as a 
special favor to be allowed to remain in the room and see us eat 
that dinner. It was soon borne in by waiters and laid smoking 
hot before us, a glorious banquet. 

How can I hope to describe that banquet ! I will not desecrate 
the delightful memory of it by a tame chronicle of the delicious 
dishes. Let it be remembered that in all those starving months 
we had never tasted tea or coffee, and now both were at our call, 
hot and delicious. 

How the steaks, eggs, ham, smoking potatoes, hot biscuits and 
sweet butter vanished before us; how we winked and exchanged 
with each other in boyish pantomime the speechless expression of 
our happiness! 

Schell and Dodge sprinkled their pie with happ^^ tears, and the 
rest of us could scarcely resist the impulse of putting the remnants 
of the banquet in our pockets. 

The meal over, we lit cigars and went forth for a stroll over the 
town, and with an air of proprietorship that created a percepti- 
ble coolness between us and our late companions, whom we were 
frequently passing. 

What a smiling, friendly look everything about us seemed to 
have. How we all talked at the same time like roistering school- 
bovs about the happy home-returning now so near! It is not 
often in the lives of men that so much happiness so swiftly suc- 
ceeds so much misery, and is showered upon them in a single day. 

On March 2 we boarded the steamer Genernl Sedgwick and 
steamed out the Cape Fear, in sight of Fort Fisher, on whose 
ramparts our brave comrades had but recently planted the Union 
flag; and after a rough night off the coast, we entered the Chesa- 
peake, and before noon landed at the Naval Academy, Annapolis, 
where we were greeted with music and cheers, and received a 
ro\al welcome. 

The quaint old Maryland Capital was soon swarming with 
prisoners; the enlisted men and many of the officers finding good 
quarters and generous fare at Camp Parole, adjacent to the town. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 635 

The rest sought accommodation at the hotels or were j^rovided 
for at private residences. 

The little post-office and telegraph offices were soon besieged 
by throngs of prisoners, and mails were soon speeding and every 
wire was humming with the glad tidings of their liberation to 
their loved ones at home. 

Within a few days three-months' pay proper was given to the 
men "on account," and this generous promptness of the Govern- 
ment, which for once m history broke loose from red-tape, was 
quickly followed by the granting to each released prisoner a fur- 
lough for thirty days. And thus, after unjiaralleled trials, in 
which enduring affection for each other was welded in the fire of 
suffering, old comrades bade each other a loving God-sijced and 
farewell, forgetting not to shed their tears for the host of their 
martyred brothers sleeping at Andersonville, Salisbury, Millen, 
Florence and Belle I§i^^ 

I was made happ^^Plill by the prompt and kind notice from 
my Colonel (Michaer^V. Burns) of my promotion from Second 
Lieutenant to Captain of my company; my commission from 
Governor Fenton dating the day of my release from twenty 
months' captivity, March 1, 1865. I had been in service since the 
twenty-first of July, 1861, having enlisted as a private immedi- 
ately on my return from New Orleans. I had been four times 
wounded, having an eye blinded at Gettysburg. I iuid been in six 
prisons, had escaped five times, and was each time retaken. I 
was one of the 109 Union officers who escaped through the tun- 
nel at Libby Prison, February 9, 1864, and was retaken in sight 
of the Union pickets. 

Within a week after my arrival at Annapolis, with my furlough 
in my pocket and happiness in my heart, I was on the train 
speeding home. A month later the curtain went down at Appo- 
mattox. The great Rebellion, with its blood and bitterness and 
tears, and the cruel bastiles of the Confederacy, with their tragic 
scenes, were things of the pathetic past. 



636 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



THE HERO OK ROUiVIAN'S POINT. 



[On the 30th of March, 1863, a large rebel force surrounded Washington, N. C, which place was 
garrisoned at the time by some 1,100 men, composed of the -'7th and 44th Mass., and detach- 
ments of the 3d N. Y. Artillery, 3d N. Y. Cavalry, and the 1st N. C. Union Volunteers. On the 
evening of the above date, Captain Lyons, with a company of the 1st N. C, crossed the Pamlico 
river, to occupy Rodman's Point, below the town, and as their flat boat struck bottom, near the 
shore, a heavy volley was fired upon them from the enemy, in ambush. Sixteen men were killed 
or wounded. The men threw themselves upon the bottom of the boat, hardly knowing what to do, 
when a colored man arose, saying: " Some one's got to die to get out of dis 'ere, an' it might as 
well be me." He at once jumped overboard, pushed the flat boat into the stream, and. as it 
swung clear, he fell mortally wounded, his body fairly riddled with bullets. This noble act is 
touchingly told in the poem.j 

READY. 

By PHCEBE GARY. 



fOADED with gallant soldiers, 
A boat shot into the land, 
And lay at the right of Rodman's 
Point, 
With her keel upon the sand. 

Lightly, gayly, they came to shore, 

And never a man afraid ; 
When sudden the enemy opened fire 

From his deadly ambuscade. 

Each man fell flat on the bottom 
Of the boat ; and the captain said : 

" If we lie here, we all are captured, 
And the first who moves is dead ! " 



Then out spoke a negro sailor, 

No slavish soul had he ; 
" Somebody's got to die, boys, 

And it might as well be me ! " 

Firmly he rose, and fearlessly 

Stepped out into the tide ; 
He puslted the vessel safely off, 

Then fell across her side : 

Fell, pierced by a dozen bullets. 
As the boat swung clear and free ; 

But there wasn't a man of tliem that 
day 
Who was fitter to die than he ! 



IVLUSTERED OUT. 

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 



^^K SOLDIER of the Union mustered And doomed battalions, storming the 



% 



out," redoubt. 

Is the inscription of an unknown Thou tuiknown hero sleeping by the 

grave sea 

At Newport News, beside the salt sea In thy forgotten grave ! with secret 

wave, shame 

Nameless and dateless; sentinel or I feel my pulses beat, my forehead 

scout burn. 

Shot down in skirmish, or disastrous When 1 remember thou hast given for 

rout me 

Of battle, when the loud artillery All that thou hast, thy life, thy very 

drave name. 
Its iron wedges through the ranks of And I can give thee nothing in re- 
brave turn. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



637 



CALIBER KIKTY=KOUR, 



By WILL CARLETON. 



AY, General, say!" the courier 
said 
(A boy of thirteen years), 
"Our regiment's scant of powder and 
lead ; 
'Most out, the Colonel fears. 
The men, they have held the ground, 
while I 
This message swiftly bore. 
Be quick, and send 'em a fresh supply! 
It's caliber fifty-four." 

" Now you are young," the General 
said, 

" To run so stern a race ; 
Some older man might come instead. 

Through such a dangerous place." 
" They couldn't be spared," the boy 
began ; 

" I'm youngest of the corps ; 
And so — but, say ! be quick, old man I 

It's caliber fifty-four." 

" Now you are hurt," the General said : 

" There's blood here on your breast. 
Go back to the rear and take my bed, 

And have some needful rest." 
" Not much ! " said the boy, with 
half-hid sneer ; 

" I can't be spared no more ; 
Mil regiment's nowhere nigh the rear — 

It's caliber fifty-four." 



" But Where's your horse ? " the General 
said ; 

" Afoot you cannot be ? " 
" Oh, a cannon-ball tore off his head. 

And didn't come far from me ; 
And bullets warbled around, you bet 

(One through my right arm tore); 
But Fm. a horse, and a colt to let ! 

I'm caliber fifty-four." 

" Your parents, boy ? " the GeneraV 
said : 

" Where are they ? — dead, it seems." 
" Oh, they are what the world calls 
dead. 

But come to me in dreams ; 
They tell me to be brave alway, 

As father was before ; 
Then mother kisses me — but say ! 

It's caliber fifty-four." 

" They'll soon be there," the General 
said, 
" Those cartridges you claim ; 
My staff's best horse you'll ride, in- 
stead 
Of that on which you came." 
Away the boy, his spurs sharp set, 

Across that field of gore, 
Still shouting back, " Now don't for- 
get ! 
It's caliber fifty-four." 



-<^ 



5^K^^'+ 



^^^ 



First Government Loan, '61. 



"•IT^'HE highest bid for the first govern- 
ment loan, February, 1861, was 
made by the Bank of the Republic, in 
New York city. 



MISSISSIPPI BLOCKADE. 



dj^IIE first point at which the rebels 
^^ commenced the erection of works 
blockading the Mississippi river was at 
Vicksburg. 



The Sixth Corps. 



THE APPOMATTOX CAIVEPAIGN 



MARCH 25 TO APRIL «, 1866. 



♦ LEE'S » SaRRENDER.* 



Capt. J. W. DIXON, Lieut. 2ci Conn. Heavy A.rtillery. 



^ 



*W' 



'^ 




HE Appomattox campaign opened witli the bat- 
tle of Fort Stedman, March 25, 1805. The 
attack was a complete surprise and the Confed- 
erates captured the fort. The victory, how- 
ever, was a short-lived one. The 1st and 3d 
Divisions of the 9th Corps, commanded by 
Maj.-Gen. John G. Parke, recaptured the work 
after a sharp fight of several hours, during which the fort 
was raked by an enfilading fire from numerous forts and re- 
doubts of our line. The 9th Corps lost in this action 911 men, 
of whom G8 were killed, 337 wounded, and 506 missing. The 
Confederate loss was 2(J81. 

General Grant ordered General Meade to assault the works 
in front of Petersburg the 29th of March, but a heavy rain 
get in, which made it necessary to postpone it. Meanwhile Maj.- 
Gen. E. O. C. Ord's 24th Corps, Army of the James, relieved the 
2d and 5th Corps in front of Petersburg, and these two corps 
joined Major-General Sheridan in an expedition far to the left, 
to turn the right flank of Lee's army. General Sheridan had 
been ordered from the Shenandoah valley in February. He was 
to conduct his superb cavalry corps across the country, destroy- 
ing General Lee's communications with the West, was to pass 
through Lynchburg and Danville, and join General Sherman 
in his march to the sea. The heavy rains rendered the James 
river impassable, so this plan was impracticable, and General 



CAMP AND FIELD, 639 

Sheridan headed for Petersburg. He joined the Army of the 
Potomac on the 2Gth of March. 

Early on the morning of the 29th, the 2d and 5th Corps, with 
the cavah-y under General Sheridan, marched to the southwest, 
crossed Hatcher s run, and headed toward Dinwiddle Court 
House. The Union line reached from the Appomattox to Din- 
widdle Court House. The army was posted from right to left 
as follows: 9th, 0th, 24th, 2d, and 5th Corps, and on the left 
Sheridan's cavalry. March 31 the Confederates made an at- 
tack upon Maj.-Gen. G. K. Warren's 5th Corps, but failed to 
break the line. 

On April 1 Sheridan's cavalry, with the 5th Corps, fought 
and won the battle of Five Forks. The list of killed was re- 
markably small considering the number of troops engaged. 
The Federal loss was 124 killed, 706 wounded, and 54 missing; 
total 884. The Confederate loss, including prisoners, was 8,500. 

On the morning of the 2d the grand assault was to be made. 
No ordinary earthworks these; they had been for many 
months an impassable barrier to the Union forces. Erected 
scientifically under the supervision of competent engineers, 
they had been strengthened as opportunity offered, until they 
were regarded by friend and foe as almost invulnerable. 

The signal for the attack was to be a gun fired at dawn of 
day; the exact hour and minute having been determined upon. 
There was a delay of a few minutes in the firing of the signal 
gun. During this interval the pickets of the 6th Corps com- 
menced firing, which brought an answer from the Confederates 
in front. The corps was formed in columns of brigades, en 
echelon, to penetrate the Confederate lines in the form of an 
enormous wedge. 

In front of the works about to be charged impenetrable lines 
of abatis extended. Men were pushed forward to cut through 
these obstacles and a force under Major Adams, of the artillery, 
was ready to spike and disable, or, if possible, to serve the capt- 
ured guns of the enemy. The strength of the Confederate 
works rendered the occupants positive that they could not be 
carried by assault. Just as the first streak of dawn appeared 
the gallant wearers of the Greek cross sprang to the charge. 
The entering point was driven through the enemy's pickets; 
through the bristling abatis; over breastworks and trenches 
upon the main works. After a fierce and bloody conflict the 



640 CAMP AND FIELD. 

works were captured, with many prisoners, battle-flags, and 
guns. The Southside railroad was reached, the rails torn up, 
and the telegraph destroyed. The troops of the 9th Corps and 
of the 24th passed through, leaving one brigade of the 6th Corps 
to guard the position. General Wright swung the corps around 
to the left, driving the enemy to Hatcher's run. 

On the morning of the 3d the corps commenced the pursuit 
of the retreating enemy. Short, sharp, and decisive was the 
campaign that followed. On the 4th the corps crossed Win- 
ticomack creek, and pushed twelve miles before going into 
camp. At 3 a. m., the 5th, the pursuit was renewed and contin- 
ued until dark. The corps was now in position on the right of 
the 5th Corps, near Jettersville. General Lee had massed his 
army at Amelia Court House. Here the 6th Corps expected to 
confront the Confederates and was moving at an early hour. 
General Lee, with great tact and secrecy, had withdrawn his 
army during the night of the 5th, and the 6th Corps was ordered 
to the left of the army, near Burkesville. Passing through 
Deatonville the railroad was reached before daylight. Turn' 
ing to the right the 6th Corps was marched toward the retreat 
ing trains, where the cavalry was hotly engaging the enemy. 
Brigadier-General Keifer, of the 3d Division, was in advance. 
The road was soon in possession of the Union troops and a 
large number of prisoners and wagons were captured. The 1st 
Division, Gen. Frank Wheaton, now appeared, and taking 
ground on the left, advanced rapidly down the road driving 
the enemy. The two divisions pressed the rear guard of the 
Confederate army until Sailor's creek was reached. Across 
this stream the Confederates had thrown up breastworks and 
here awaited the attack of the exultant Union troops. 

Under cover of a heavy artillery fire the two divisions crossed 
the swampy ground and the creek itself, and with cheers 
charged the heights where the enemy was posted. Here a 
hand-to-hand conflict was carried on and most desperate 
charges and counter charges were made. Bayonet charges were 
made, men clubbed their muskets and fought as if individual 
deeds of valor cotild carry the day. A column of the enemy 
charged so impetuously and desperately that they temporarily 
succeeded, but the 6th Corps, on the right and left, continued 
to advance, and the gallant charging column of the Confed' 
erates was enveloped, surrounded. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 641 

Major-General Wright said of this charge: "Never was I 
more astonished. These troops were surrounded; the 1st and 
3d Divisions of the 0th Corps were on either flank, my artillery 
and a fresh division in their front, and some three divisions of 
Major-General Sheridan's cavalry in their rear. Looking upon 
them as already our prisoners, I had ordered the artillery to 
cease firing as a dictate of humanity." 

General Wright had captured Generals Ewell and Custis Lee, 
with many officers of less exalted rank, together with thou- 
sands of prisoners, and many battle-flags. The 6th Corps lost 
here 166 killed, 1,014 wounded; total 1,180. The Confederate loss 
was 7,000. 

lee's surrender. 

The flying enemy was now closely pressed by the victorious 
Union army. Disabled guns, limbers, caissons, battery wagons, 
forges, army wagons, dead horses, and mules strewed the way 
for miles. On the morning of the 5th the corps bore far to the 
right and encamped some eighteen miles from its starting 
point of that morning. Early the 6th, it was en route to Appo- 
mattox Court House, where it halted to await the result of the 
conference between Generals Grant and Lee. What that result 
was has been graven upon the historical tablets of America. 






First Corps at Gettysburg. 



The 1st Corps did the hai'dest fight- 
ing at Gettysbni'g and lost more than 
any other corps. 




.^-^^-^ 



GRANT'S FORESIGHT. Confederate Honors of War. 



^O General Grant is due the credit of T^HE first time the body of a rebel 

V' giving up the " anaconda " scheme ; / soldier was returned to his kindred 

of relinquishing the idea of " surround- and friends, with the honors of war, 

ing " a great continent, and of devoting was on the 9th of January, 1863. It 

the strength of the government to the was the body of Colonel Lawton, who 

task of destroying the armies which was wounded and captured at the battle 

kept the Confederacy in existence. of Fredericksburg. 



642 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



THB SIvEKPINO ORAY. 

In Memory of the Confederate Soldiers who Fell in the Struggle. 

By PAUL H. HAYNE. 



*HE sounds of the tumult have 
ceased to ring, 
And the battle's sun has set, 
And here in the peace of the newborn 
spring 
We would fain forgive and forget ; 

Forget the rage of the hostile years, 
And the scars of a wrong luishriven, 

Forgive the torture that thrilled to tears 
The angels' calm in heaven. 

Forgive and forget ? yes, be it so, 
From the hills to the broad sea waves ; 

But mournful and low are the winds 
that blow 
By the slopes of a thousand graves. 

We may scourge from the spirit all 
thought of ill 

In the midnight of grief held fast. 
And yet, O brothers ! be loyal still 

To the sacred and stainless past. 

She is glancing now from the vapor and 
cloud 
From the waning mansion of Mars, 
And the pride of her beauty is wanly 
bowed. 
And her eyes are misled stars. 

And she speaks in a voice that is sad as 
death, 
" There is duty still to be done, 
Tho' the trumpet of onset has spent its 
breath. 
And the battle been lost and won." 

And she points with a tremulous hand 
below 
To the wasted and worn arrav 



Of the heroes vwho strove in the morn- 
ing glow 
Of the grandeur that crowned " the 
Gray." 

Oh God ! they come not as once they 
came 
In the magical years of yore ; 
For the trenchant sword and the soul of 
flame. 
Shall quiver and clash no more. 

Alas for the broken and battered hosts, 
Frail wrecks from a gory sea, 

Though pale as a band in the realm of 
ghosts. 
Salute them 1 They fought with Lee, 

And gloried when dauntless Stonewall 
marched 
Like a giant o'er field and blood, 
When the bow of his splendid victories 
arched 
The tempest whose rain is — blood ! 



Not vanquished, but crushed by a mys- 
tic fate. 
Blind nations against them hurled 
By the selfish might and the causeless 
hate 
Of the banded and ruthless world ! 

Enough ; all Fates are servants of God, 
And follow his guiding hand ; 

We shall rise some day from the Chas- 
tener's rod, 
Shall waken, and — undei'stand! 



•fr Lee's v Surrender.* 

1865. 
PERSONAL ACCOUNT BY GENERAL GRANT. 




|HE night before General 
Lee surrendered, I had 
a wretched headache — 
headaches to which I have 
been subject — nervous prostra- 
tion, intense personal suffering. 
But, suffer or not, I had to 
keep moving. I saw clearly, 
especially after Sheridan had 
cut off the escape to Danville, 
that Lee must surrender or 
break and run into the mount- 
ains — break in all directions 
and leave us a dozen guerrilla 
bands to fight. My campaign 
was not Richmond, not the de- 
feat of Lee in actual fight, but 
to remove him and his army 
out of the contest and, if pos- 
sible, to have him use his in- 
fluence in inducing the sur- 
render of Johnston and the 
other isolated armies. You 
see the war was an enormous 
strain upon the country. Rich 
as we were I do not now see 
how we could have endured it 
another year, even from a 
financial point of view. So 



with these views I wrote Lee, 
and opened the correspondence 
with which the world is famil- 
iar. Lee does not appear well in 
that correspondence-not nearly 
so well as he did in our subse- 
quent interviews, where his 
whole bearing was that of a 
patriotic and gallant soldier, 
concerned alone for the wel- 
fare of his army and his State. 
I received word that Lee would 
meet me at a point within our 
lines near Sheridan's head- 
quarters. I had to ride quite 
a distance through a muddy 
country. I remember now 
that I was concerned about 
my personal appearance. I 
had an old suit on, without my 
sword, and without any dis- 
tinguishing mark of rank ex- 
cept the shoulder-straps of a 
lieutenant general on a woolen 
blouse. I was splashed with 
mud in my long ride. I was 
afraid Lee might think I meant 
to show him studied discour- 
tesy by so coming — at least I 



644 



CAMP AND FIELD. 



thought SO. But I had no 
clothes within reach, as Lee's 
letter found me away from my 
base of supplies. I kept on 
riding until I met Sheridan. 
The general, who was one of 
the heroes of the campaign, 
and whose pursuit of Lee was 
perfect in its generalship and 
energy, told me where to find 
Lee. I remember that Sheri- 
dan was impatient when I met 
him — anxious and suspicious 
about the whole business, 
feared there might be a plan 
to escape, that he had Lee at 
his feet, and wanted to end the 
business by going in and forc- 
ing an absolute surrender by 
capture. In fact, he had his 
troops ready for such an as- 
sault when Lee's white flag 
came within his lines. I went 
up to the house where Lee was 
waiting. I found him in a fine, 
new, splendid uniform, which 
only recalled my anxiety as to 
my own clothes while on my 
way to meet him. I expressed 
my regret that I was compelled 
to meet him in so unceremoni- 
ous a manner, and he replied, 
that the only suit he" had avail- 
able was one which had been 
sent him by some admirers in 
Baltimore and which he then 
wore for the first time. We 
spoke of old friends in the 
army. I remembered having 
seen Lee in Mexico. He was 
so much higher in rank than 



myself at the time that I sup- 
posed he had nc recollection of 
me. But he said he remem- 
bered me very well. We talked 
of old times and exchanged in- 
quiries about friends. Lee then 
broached the subject of our 
meeting. I told him my terms, 
and Lee, listening attentively, 
asked me to write them down. 
I took out my manifold order 
book and ' pencil and wrote 
them down. General Lee put 
on his glasses and read them 
over. The conditions gave the 
officers their side arms, private 
horses and personal baggage. 
I said to Lee that I hoped and 
believed this would be the close 
of the war. That it was most 
important that the men should 
go home and go to work, and the 
government would not throw 
any obstacles in the way. Lee 
answered that it would have a 
most happy effect and accepted 
the terms. I handed over my 
penciled memorandum to an 
aide to put into ink and we re- 
sumed our conversation about 
old times and friends in the 
armies. Lee no doubt ex- 
pected me to ask for his sword, 
but I did not want to take his 
sword. It would only have 
been sent to the patent office to 
be worshiped by the Washing- 
ton rebels. Then there was an- 
other pause, after which he 
said that most of the animals 
in his cavalry and artillery 



CAMP &ND fi'5:ld. 



645 



were owned by the privates, 
and he would like to know, 
under the terms, whether they 
would be regarded as private 
property or the property of the 
government. I said under the 
terms of surrender they be- 
longed to the government. 
General Lee read over the let- 
ter and said that was so. I 
then said to the general that I 
believed and hoped this was 



the last battle of the war, and 
I saw the wisdom of these 
men getting home and to work 
as soon as possible, and that I 
would give orders to allow any 
soldier or officer claiming a 
horse or a mule to take it. 
General Lee showed some emo- 
tion at this — a feeling which I 
also shared. The interview 
ended, and I gave orders for 
rationing his troops. 



..-»$s^->^ 



HC-J^t:^- 



M. D. 



SOLDIER once — it was not long 

ago- 
Becoming drier than a Cape Cod 
fish. 
Made up his mind to have a drink. 
But knew not how to gain his wish ; 

For, just before, a mandate liad been 

given. 
No soldier should be furnished rum — 
Unless the sutler had a paper signed 
By an M. D. to give him some. 

Our friend, who was himself a waggish 

knave, 
Thus set about to gain his ends : 
Some papers in his pack he quickly 

finds. 
And soon a goose-quill to a pen he 

mends. 

And then he writes, with many a 

thoughtful grin, 
*' Deliver bearer two pints of good 

whisky, 



And send him back. Yours, sir, I am, 
John Jabez Johnston, M. D." 

The day went by ; the sutler meeting 
him — 

"Why, John, how long since you be- 
came M. D.V 

''An M. D., sir ! " rejilies this Satan's 
limb, 

" Upon my word, you startle me ! " 

" Why, yes, see here ; now, didn't you, 
Sending for whisky, sign yourself a 

doctor V " 
"A doctor? no! what do you mean? 
Come, speak out, man! A doctor? 

pshaw ! " 

"You signed INI. D. I " Our friend is 

sad, 
And looks toward heaven, then heaves 

a sigh — 
" I truly did ; yet I'm no quack " 
"The M. D., then?" " Meant— mighty 

DRY ! " 



^ne ^Qun\r^ (Bind (^ne. f^Ieg. 

Lek's Klioht and thk Pursuit. 



The Grapple at Sailor's Creek.— The Surrender at Appomattox. 




IN SEABCH OF JOHNSTON. 

By JATVIES L. BOWEN, 37th IVlass. 





^OT the Army of the Potomac alone but the whole country 
was electrified by the tidings which that never-to-be- 
forgotten 3d of April, 18(35, proclaimed to the world. 
Not only Petersburg but Richmond had been evacu- 
ated during the night; the Confederate government as well as 
Lee's army was in full flight. 

General Weitzel, whose lines faced the Richmond defenses, 
was startled by heavy explosions and volumes of black smoke 
rising from the city, A cavalry vidette was pushed forward 
which entered unopposed the city to gp-in which such countless 
thousands of lives had been sacrificed and planted its guidons 
on the late Confederate capitol. The retiring traitors in their 
eagerness for destruction had fired large warehouses filled with 
tobacco situated in the heart of the city; and though Weitzel's 
soldiers were at once hurried to the spot and fought the fire with 
all their power, it could not be checked till the business part of 
the city was destroyed and a vast number of people rendered 
homeless. 

General Lee on retiring from Petersburg moved north to 
Chesterfield Court House, half way to Richmond, where the 
fragments of his army from different directions concentrated, 
marching thence with all speed due west. The route led across 
the Appomattox at Goode's Bridge to Amelia Court House on 
the Danville railroad, thirty-eight miles west of Petersburg, 



CAMP AND FIELD. 647 

whence Lee intended to move by the raih'oad to Biirkesville, 
twenty miles to the southwest, the crossing of the Danville and 
Southside roads. From that point he could retreat either in the 
direction of Danville or Lynchburg, prolonging the struggle in- 
definitely; but Providence decreed that the mad folly which for 
four years had reigned should come to a sudden end at last. On 
reaching Amelia, Lee found that large quantities of supplies 
which had been ordered to that place had by a misunderstand- 
ing been carried on to Richmond, and they had in fact been 
burned there with other stores. His army was consequently 
without food and was obliged to remain there during the tth 
and 5th while numerous foraging parties were sent out in all 
directions to gather such supplies as were obtainable from the 
surrounding country. 

General Sheridan with the cavalry advance of the Union army 
gained the Danville railroad at Jetersville, some miles to the 
southwest of Lee's position, on the morning of the 4th, cutting 
off the intended retreat toward Danville. The 5th, 3d, and 
6th Corps coming up during the following day, preparations 
were made to attack on the morning of the Gth. 

The forces from the Army of the James, under General Ord, 
followed the Southside railroad, while Sheridan's cavalry, the 
5th, 2d, and Gth Corps, in the -order named, pursued the roads 
between the railway and the river. Some ten miles were made 
the first day, the march was resumed at daylight of the 4th, 
and continued with brief halts for breath till an hour after 
dark. On the morning of the 5th an order was read to each 
regiment asking the troops to cheerfully endure hardships and 
hunger if necessary in order to ensure the speedy downfall of 
the rebellion, which was greeted with cheers and followed by 
another hard day's march, the corps joining Sheridan's forces 
at Jetersville late in the evening. 

An advance was promptly made toward Amelia at daylight 
of the 6th, but it was soon evident that the prey had escaped 
during the night. Lee had in fact moved past the Union left 
flank and made a strong push for Farmville, thirty-five miles 
west, where he hoped to cross to the north side of the Appo- 
mattox and still escape to Lynchburg and the mountains be- 
yond. General Ord, whose command had reached Burkesville, 
was at once directed to move to Farmville, and sent on in ad- 
vance of his main body a light column of some five hundred men 



648 CAMP AND FIELD. 

under Gen. Theodore Read. This little force succeeded in reach- 
ing Farmville in advance of the enemy and in checking the latter 
till General Ord arrived; but General Read was killed and his 
command nearly destroyed. 

Meantime the three infantry corps of the Army of the Poto- 
mac, preceded by cavalry, moved westward from Jetersville on 
parallel routes, the 6th Corps on the southernmost road follow- 
ing General Sheridan. At Deatonsville he began to feel the 
Confederate rear guard, fully a third of Lee's army under Gen- 
eral Ewell, which was making determined efforts to protect 
what remained of the wagon trains. Custer's cavalry division 
had succeeded by a detour in cutting off the train and its guards, 
while Sheridan pressed sharply on the rear. A running fight 
ensued for some distance, when the Confederates having reached 
favorable ground on the west side of Sailor's Creek turned upon 
their pursuers for a last desperate stand. The afternoon was 
waning, and if they could hold the Federals at bay till dusk it 
might be possible to save something from the surrounding and 
converging circle of fire. 

Never had so many miles been made with such heart as the 
seventy marched over since leaving Petersburg, and dashing 
the sweat from their faces the enthusiastic fellows began to fill 
the magazines of their rifles, to east aside knapsacks, blankets, 
and superfluous clothing in preparation for the anticipated strug- 
gle. The men were ready to break into a run when the order 
to " double-quick " was received, and for three miles they went 
forward at a pace which nothing but the intense excitement of 
the occasion could have enabled them to sustain. 

Just where the road passed the crest of an elevation Generals 
Sheridan and Wright sat upon their horses watching on the one 
side the magnificent advance of the troops and on the other the 
scene of the coming battle. Pausing for a moment to receive a 
welcome and directions as to the placing of his command. Gen- 
eral Edwards bore straight for the battle field and his men fol- 
lowed with no slackening of speed. As they passed the crest 
the scene of strife lay spread before them like a panorama. For 
a mile a gentle open slope led down to the creek, a narrow, 
sluggish stream with marshy and bush grown banks; on the 
opposite side there was a somewhat more marked ascent, broken 
by ravines and covered vith a scattering thicket of pines and 
bushes. On the latter slope, protected by the contour of the 



CAMP AND FIELD 649 

ground, Ewell's lines of battle were disposed. Far beyond the 
smoke of burning wagons showed the presence and the work of 
Custer's horsemen. On the eastern side of the creek the guns 
of Sheridan's artillery had been holding the enemy to cover till 
the Union infantry could get up. 

Wheaton's and Seymour s (od) Divisions were pushed across 
the creek, which was waist deep and difficult to ford, while 
Getty's was held in reserve on the eastern bank. 

As the foot of the ascent was reached the lines were again ad- 
justed, moved by the right flank for a short distance, and once 
more advanced up the slope. A scattering fire was immediately 
encountered from the enemy's skirmishers, and one of the first 
of the 37th to fall was 1st Sergt. Ezra P. Cowles of Co. D, which 
he commanded. Captain Edwards acting as major. Sergeant 
Cowles was mortally wounded through the body, but heroically 
cheered on his comrades as he fell. Shortly afterward as the 
regiment scrambled through the undergrowth a terrific crash 
of musketry burst from the Confederate lines but a few yards 
in front. 

Fortunately, owing to the position of the foe on somewhat 
higher ground and the impossibility of their taking proper 
aim through the thicket, what was intended* for an anni- 
hilating volley at close range mostly went over our heads. 
The men pressed forward, holding their fire with wonderful 
self-control till they were in plain sight of the enemy, almost 
face to face. 

Then the Spencer rifle did the work for which it was intended. 
Volley followed volley with almost the rapidity of thought, 
tearing the opposing line into demoralized fragments. While 
some surrendered and many fell, the rest broke away and ran 
through the forest, hotly pursued by our boys. In the wild ex- 
ultation of the moment the officers did not discover that our 
regiment was alone and utterly unsupported in its advance. 
The rest of the Union line had been broken and pushed back 
temporarily by the mad onset of Ewell's corps, some of them to 
and across the creek to the shelter of Sheridan's artillery. Of 
course this temporary success of the enemy would be brief, but 
it was sufficient to place the little more than two hundred mem- 
bers of the 37th in a remarkably unpleasant position. 

The first realization of the true situation came from the dis- 
covery of what seemed to be a heavy column of the enemy 



650 CAMP AND FIELD, 

passing the left flank of the regiment. Front was changed in 
that direction and a few volleys from the Spencers drove the 
force out of sight, but not a moment too soon. Gen. Custis Lee, 
the son of the Confederate commander-in-chief, on the right of 
the 37th, saw his opportunity and moved his brigade through a 
ravine to the rear of the isolated regiment. His command in- 
cluded the famous 7th Regt. of Savannah and a battalion of 
marines from the gunboats which had been destroyed at the 
evacuation of Richmond. The latter were picked men and es- 
pecially anxious to signalize their presence on the field of 
battle. 

Captain Hopkins had barely time to face his command to the 
rear to meet this new danger when Lee's brigade burst from 
the cover of the gulch and dashed in a ferocious charge upon 
our thin line. It was the severest test to which the veteran 
regiment had ever been subjected, but it was most magnifi- 
cently met. 

Lee's wave of chivalry struck the rock of Massachusetts man- 
hood only to recoil. Both sides fought with desperate courage, 
hand to hand, with bayonets, swords, and pistols. The lines 
of Blue and Gray, half hidden in the veil of smoke, seemed to 
mingle in oneYnass as they swayed back and forth, and for a 
time the issue seemed in doubt. But the Men in Blue did not 
give an inch. Meeting blow with blow, loading and firing their 
deadly repeating rifles as rapidly as possible, they checked 
the onset of the enemy, held him, pushed him back, at first 
slowly and with obstinate resistance, then in a broken rout into 
the gorge from which he had emerged. 

As the disorganized Confederates took shelter in the ravine a 
sharp fire was poured in upon them, when they made signals of 
surrender. Adjutant Bradley stepped forward to meet a Con- 
federate officer who was advancing as though to give himself 
up, when the latter drew a pistol and wounded the adjutant, 
who grappled his assailant and they rolled down the bank in 
the struggle which followed. Bradley having been shot in 
the thigh by a bystanding rebel was overpowered, and his an- 
tagonist was poising his pistol to give a death-shot when his 
own traitorous life was extinguished by a well directed shot 
from the rifle of Private Samuel E. Eddy, of Co. D. Simulta- 
neously with the shot Eddy was thrust through the breast with 
a bavonet in the hands of a stalwart Southron. The weapon 



CAMP AND FIELD. 651 

protruded from the back near the spine, and the unfortunate 
soldier being thrown down was literally pinned to the ground. 
The assailant then endeavored to wrest away Eddy's Spencer 
rifle, but the wounded man grasped his trusty weapon with a 
grip which few men in either army could equal, and notwith- 
standing his awful situation succeeded in throwing another 
cartridge into his rifle, the bullet from which was next moment 
sent through the heart of his antagonist. The Confederate fell 
across the prostrate Unionist, but the latter threw aside the 
body with one hand as though it were the carcass of a dog, 
withdrew the bayonet from his own horrible wound, rose to his 
feet, and walked to the rear. 

After this exhibition of treachery the regiment re-opened fire 
with a vengeance, and it required but a few volleys to bring the 
Confederates to their senses and to a surrender in reality, the 
cavalry at the upper end of the ravine cutting off their retreat. 
The 37th secured and sent to the rear over three hundred 
prisoners, considerably in excess of the number of men it 
took into the fight, while from all sides captives and captures 
of every sort poured to the rear in bewildering numbers and 
quantity. 

No less than six Confederate generals were secured, includ- 
ing Ewell, Kershaw, and Custis Lee, with about all that re- 
mained of Ewell's corps. There was but little attempt to 
count, and scarcely to guard the captures made; while every- 
where the shout was "'Forward!" "Onward I" to strike the 
final blows and destroy everything that remained to Lee as an 
organized array. 

In such a struggle as the 37th had passed through, where 
every man had proved himself a hero and fought largely on his 
own responsibility, it is impossible to note more than a few of 
the noteworthy deeds performed, and the narration of certain 
incidents will only serve to show the character of many which 
must be passed without chronicle, but which will live long about 
the camp-fire and in the traditions of the home. Gen. Custis 
Lee, who directed the charge upon the 37th, had till shortly be- 
fore filled a clerkship at Richmond, but finally laid down the 
pen to take up the sword, surrendering the latter at the muzzle 
of the Spencer rifle to Corp. David White of Co. E. First Sergt. 
Almon M. Warner of the same company attempted to capture 
a battle-flag, but was severely wounded, when Private Charles 



652 CAMP AND FIELD. 

A. Taggart of Co. B sprang forward and secured the colors, for 
which act of bravery he received a medal."*' 

One brave corporal becoming somewhat separated from his 
comrades encountered a Confederate officer whose surrender he 
demanded and on receiving a refusal shot him, inflicting a fatal 
wound. As the wounded man fell the corporal bent over him, 
saying: " I am sorry that I had to shoot you! I am a Christian, 
and if you wish I will pray with you; it is all I can do for you 
now." The offer was thankfully accepted, and while the tem- 
pest of battle raged near them the earnest voice of prayer rose 
in behalf of the departing spirit. At its close the dying officer 
joined in the "Amen," gave his sword to the young soldier 
with a message for his wife, when the latter, who had been 
fired at on the supposition that he was committing a robbery, 
resumed his rifle and continued the battle. 

Though the loss was severe, it was found to be far less than 
might have been expected from the ferocity of the conflict. 
Nine had been killed and thirty-one wounded, several of the 
latter fatally and nearly all seriously. The killed were: Co. 
B— Corp. Henry L. Messinger and Edgar N. Phelps. C— Sergt. 
Samuel M. Bolton and Charles Blakesley. D— Corp. Timothy 
D. Smith. E— William H. Henderson. F— William F. Leg- 
gett. H— Sergt. David B. Miller. K— Timothy Mullin. Capt. 
Walter B. Smith and Lieut. Harrie A. Cushman were severely 
wounded in the early part of the engagement— the former by 
a charge of "buck and ball" in the thigh received at short 
range. The loss in non-commissioned officers was especially 
severe. Four first sergeants were wounded — Warner of E, 
Cowles of D, Freeman of B, and Partridge of H. the three 
latter fatally. Sergt. Bolton of Co. C, who was killed, was one 
of the transfers from the 10th, a fine soldier, who in the closing 
battle of the rebellion crowned nearly four years of faithful 
service by the supreme sacrifice. 

* These medals had been authorized by a resolution of Congress approved July 
12, 1862, " to provide for the presentation of Medals of Honor to the enlisted 
men of the army and volunteer forces who have distinguished, or may distin- 
guish, themselves in battle during the present rebellion." On the back of the 
medal was engraved, " The Congress, to Private Charles A. Taggart. Co. B, 37th 
Mass. Vols." That these medals were not promiscuously distributed is suffi- 
ciently attested by the fact that but eighteen were bestowed on Massachusetts 
soldiers. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 653 

That night our boys camped near the battle field, and the suc- 
ceeding two days were occupied in following up the retreating 
fragments of the Confederate army. On the night of the 6th 
Lee had retired across the Appomattox at High Bridge with 
what was left to him of the liungry, broken, dispirited army, 
but before the bridges behind him could be destroyed the 2d 
Corps was rushing across and the pursuit was unbroken. The 
Sth found his forces hopelessly hemmed in at Appomattox 
Court House, the Federal troops closing in resistlessly and Gen- 
eral Grant demanding his surrender to save the further waste of 
life. There was one more desperate attempt on the morning of 
the 9th to force the thin lines through the cavalry environment 
which Sheridan had placed between the Confederates and fur- 
ther retreat, but the pushing back of the dismounted horsemen 
only disclosed the advancing bayonets of the Army of the 
James, and the white flag which preceded formal surrender 
took the place of the Stars and Bars. 

As the fact of Lee's surrender became generally known 
thpough the Union army that afternoon there was joy too wild, 
too deep, too sincere for utterance in formal words. Cannon 
thundered, men shouted themselves hoarse, then pitched 
their shelter tents for the first time since leaving winter quar- 
ters and lay within them with the strange realization that there 
was no longer an opposing army to be watched and feared. 

Our regiment enjoyed a night and a day of unbroken rest 
and were then ordered to report back to Burkesville, for which 
place they started on the morning of the 11th in a drizzling 
rain, marching twenty miles toward Farmville over the road 
by which they had moved toward Appomattox. Both the rain 
and the march continued for two days longer, camp being 
pitched near Burkesville on the afternoon of the ioth in a 
beautiful pine grove. There the regiment remained for ten 
days, during which time every heart was inexpressibly sad- 
dened by the news of the assassination of President Lincoln. 

During this time occurred the last muster of officers — Dr. 
Charles E. Inches, of Boston, on the 13th as assistant surgeon, 
and on the loth 2d Lieut. James O'Connor of Co. G as 1st lieu- 
tenant of Co. C, vice Jones, promoted. Surgeon Inches was a 
young man, enthusiastic and ambitious in his profession, with 
a heart overflowing with kindness for his fellow-beings; and 
brief as was his service and happily free from the ravages of 



654 CAMP AND FIELD, 

battle, his tender humanity won prompt and heartfelt apprecia- 
tion from every member of the regiment. 

Meantime in every direction the end of the armed rebellion 
was approaching. General Sherman after tarrying at Savannah 
for some weeks had moved forward in resistless force to Co- 
lumbia, S. C, whence he swept straight through the Carolinas 
toward Richmond, driving before him the remnants of the Con- 
federate forces which General Johnston was striving to gather 
somew^here for a determined stand. Fort Fisher, guarding the 
harbor of Wilmington, N. C, having fallen before the deter- 
mined assault of General Terry, and Wilmington itself before 
General Schofield's 23d Corps, which had been brought to the 
Carolina coast by way of Washington, these forces were trans- 
ferred to New-Berne, and moved — though not without opposition 
and some sharp fighting — toward the center of the state to in- 
tersect the line of Sherman's march. Hardee had evacuated 
Charleston on hearing of Sherman's movement, lighting fires 
which burned most of the city and killed two hundred of the 
inhabitants by an explosion, and at Averasboro had a sharp en- 
gagement with some of Sherman's forces on the lOth of March. 
This was followed by the more determined battle of Benton- 
ville, three days later, in which Johnston succeeded in check- 
ing the column under General Slocum from the 10th to the 21st, 
when Sherman having concentrated an enveloping force the 
Confederate commander retired during the night and the march 
of the Union army was resumed. 

At Goldsboro, Sherman formed a connection with Schofield, 
and halted to rest his exhausted troops, communication being 
opened by rail with New- Berne, but on the 10th of April the cam- 
paign was resumed. Next day the tidings of Lee's surrender 
were received, and Raleigh was occupied on the 13th; the day 
following Johnston sent in a flag of truce and from the armis- 
tice which resulted his surrender ensued on the 26th. In his 
case as in that of Lee, the hungry Confederate soldiers were 
supplied with rations by the government they had so long fought 
against, and at once started for their homes to resume the pur- 
suits of peace and begin the great task of repairing the ravages 
of war. 

Meantime the 0th Corps had been ordered from Burkesville 
to Danville, on the North Carolina border, one hundred miles 
away, and on the morning of the 23d set forth. The roads, fol- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 655 

lowing the general direction of the railroad, were good an*d the 
weather was quite favorable, which with the encouragement 
received from recent events gave the troops great heart and 
strength for whatever trials might be deemed necessary. 
Twenty-five miles were made the first day and twenty the 
next, bringing the corps to bivouac on the banks of the Staun- 
ton river. Soon after dark of the 27th our regiment as rear 
guard of the corps passed through Danville and a mile beyond 
went into camp. 

As the corps approached the city, which is situated on the 
south bank of the Dan river, an attempt was made by some of 
the bitter inhabitants to burn the bridge, but the mayor and 
the more sensible citizens protested so vigorously' that the pur- 
pose was abandoned. To the right on an elevation a fort with 
six guns commanding the bridge looked grimly down, but it 
had no garrison and was simply a reminder of the days which 
had passed. The city had also been a depot for Union prison- 
ers, but such as were there had been released and with joy had 
hurried to the now all-potent protection of the triumphant 
Stars and Stripes. 

Reliable intelligence of Johnston's surrender, which had been 
prematurely rumored, was received on the following day, and 
then it was even more vividly realized that with the dispersion 
of the last formidable armed force the existence of the rebellion 
practically ceased, that the long looked for day had come when 
there was in reality but one Country beneath one Flag. 

First N. Y. Re^t. to tlie Front. First Conflict of the War. 



THE first regiment in the state of 'THE first actual conflict of the war 

New York to offer its services to / was in St. Louis, on the 10th of 

the government, is said by Colonel INIay. 1861, on the occasion of the coup 

Adams of the 67th, to be the regiment d'etat of General Lyon — capture of the 

he commanded. rebel camp Jackson. 




LEE'S SURRENDER. 



COMPILED FROM THE OFFICIAL RECORDS, AND FROM 

DESCRIPTIONS GIVEN BY GENERAL 

GRANT AND OTHERS. 



^^WMI^BOUT April 1st, 1865, the Confederate forces under 
J/r w'mi'Ml General Lee were totally routed and flying before 
Grant's army. Victory and peace seemed very near 
and General Grant wrote the following letter to Lee : 

Farmville, Va., April 7, 1865. 

General: The results of the last week must convince you of 
the hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the army of 
northern Virginia in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard 
it as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility of any father 
effusion of blood by asking of you the surrender of that por- 
tion of the Confederate States army known as the arm}^ of north- 
ern Virginia. U. S. Grant, Lieutenant-General. 

Lee had been counselled by his own officers to surrender. He 
hesitated to acc[uiesce in their advice, saying, "I have too many 
brave men, the time has not yet come for surrender." 

Still he replied to Grant's letter on the evening of the same 
dav : 



CAMP AND FIELD. 657 

General: I have received your note of tliis day. Though not 
entirely of the opinion you express of the hopelessness of further 
resistance on the part of the army of northern Virginia, I appre- 
ciate your desire to avoid useless effusion of blood, and therefore, 
before considering your proposition, ask the terms you will 
offer on conditions of the surrender. Gen. R. E. Lee. 

This note was placed in Gen. Grant's hands on the morning 
of the 8th, while he was still at Farmville. He immediately 
replied : 

General : Your note of last evening in reply to mine of the same 
date, asking the conditions on which I will accept the surrender 
of the army of northern Virginia, has just been received. In re- 
ply I would say that, peace being my great desire, there is but 
one condition I would insist upon, namely, that the men and 
officers surrendered shall be disqualified for taking up arms 
against the government of the United States until properly ex- 
changed. I will meet you, or designate officers to meet any 
officers you may name for the same purpose, at any point agree- 
able to you, for the purpose of arranging definitely the terms up- 
on which the surrender of the army of northern Virginia will be 
received. 

U. S. Grant, Lieutenant-General. 

Meanwhile, the Union army kept on in its pursuit, and the 
fighting continued. 

Early on the 8th, Grant set out from Farmville to join Sheri- 
dan's advance. He had been absent from his own headquarters 
several days, and worn out with anxiety and fatigue, loss of 
sleep and the weight of responsibility, he became very unwell, 
and was obliged to halt at a farmhouse on the road. 

While here he received about midnight another letter from Lee. 

April 8th. 

I received at a late hour your note of to-day. In mine of 3^es- 
terday I did not intend to propose the surrender of the army of 
northern Virginia, but to ask the terms of your proposition. 

To be frank, I do not think the emergency has arisen to call for 
the surrender of this army, but as the restoration of peace 



658 CAMP AND FIELD. 

should be the sole object of all, I desired to know whether your 
proposals would lead to that end. I cannot, therefore, meet 
you with a view to surrender the army of northern Virginia ; 
but as far as your proposal may affect the Confederate States 
forces under my command, I should be pleased to meet you at 
10 A.M. to-morrow on the old stage road to Richmond, be- 
tween the picket lines of the two armies. 

R. E. Lee. 

This letter was thoroughly disingenous and unworthy of Lee. 
On the other hand, Grant in his reply, used direct language and 
meant whathesaid. He wrote on the morning of the 9th of April: 

General : Your note of 3'esterday is received. I have no author- 
ity to treat on the subject of peace. The meeting proposed for 10 
A. M. to-day could lead to no good. I will state, however, that 
I am equally desirous for peace with yourself, and the whole 
North entertains the same feeling. The terms upon which peace 
can be had are well understood. By the South laying down their 
arms, they would hasten that most desirable event, save thou- 
sands of human lives, and hundreds of millions of property not 
yet destroyed. Seriously hoping that all our difficulties may be 
settled without the loss of another life, I subscribe myself, etc. 

U. S. Grant, Lieutenant-General. 

Lee received Grant's letter on the morning of the 9th, and at 
once leplied : 

General : I received your note of this morning on the picket 
line, whither I had come to meet you and ascertain definitely 
what terms were embraced in your proposal of yesterday with 
reference to the surrender of this army. I now ask an interview, 
in accordance with the offer contained in your letter of yesterday, 
for that purpose. 

R. E. Lee. 

This communication did not reach Grant until about noon. 
He immediately returned answer. 

General: Your note of this date is but thismoment (11:50 a. m.) 
received, in consequence of my having passed from the Richmond 



CAMP AND FIELD. 659 

and Lynchburgh roads to the rami ville and Lynchburgh i oad. I 
am at this writing about four miles west of Walkin Church, and 
will push forward to the front for the purpose of meeting you. 
Notice sent to me on this road where you wish the inter vic^^ to 
take place will meet me. 

On receipt of this note Lee rode to the village of Appomattox, 
and selected the house of a farmer named McLean for his inter- 
view wnth Grant. Grant having received information of Lee's 
v^aiting at the farmhouse, at once proceeded to the interview. 
The house was a very plain building, with a verandah. Grant 
w^as conducted through a narrow hall into a small parlor con- 
taining a centre table, one or two small stands, a sofa and two 
or three chairs. Lee was accompanied by his military secretar\' 
and chief of staff, Col. Charles Marshall. The two great com- 
manders shook hands heartily, and had scarcely taken their seats 
when their first words were interrupted by the entrance of the 
Union officers. 

Gen. Grant had not personally met Gen. Lee since the two were 
in Mexico together — the latter then on the staff of Scott, the for- 
mer a subaltern. The conversation naturally hinged at first up- 
on these old recollections. Then there was a slight pause, which 
was broken by Gen. Lee, who said : 

"I asked to see you, General, to find out upon what terms you 
would receive the surrender of my arm}'." 

Gen. Grant thought a moment and replied : 

"My terms are these: All officers and men must become pris- 
oners of war, giving up, of course, all weapons, munitions and 
supplies. But a parole will be accepted, binding officers and men 
to go to their homes and remain there until exchanged, or releas- 
ed by proper authority." 

Lee responded to this with a remark not exactly pertinent to 
the occasion, wdiereupon Grant continued, asking: 

"Do I understand, Gen. Lee, that you accept these terms?" 

"Yes," replied Lee, faltering: "If you will put them in writing I 
wall put my signature to them." 



660 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Gen. Grant, without saving more, again took seat at thetable^ 
and wrote thefollowing: 

J Appomattox Court House, 
1^ Virginia, April 9, 1865. 

General : In accordance with the substance of my letter to you 
of the 8th inst., I propose to receive the surrender of the army of 
northern Virginia on the following terms, to wit : Rolls of all the 
officers and men to be made in duplicate, one copy to be given to 
an officer to be designated by me, the other to be retained by 
such officer or officers as you may designate. The officers to 
give their individual paroles not to take up arms against the^ 
government of the United States until properly exchanged, and 
each company or regimental commander to sign a like parole for 
the men of their commands. The arms, artillery and public prop- 
erty to be parked and stacked, and turned over to the officers ap- 
pointed by me to receive them. This will not embrace the side 
arms of the officers, nor their private horses or baggage. This 
done, each officer and man will be allowed to return to his home, 
not to be disturbed by the United States authorities so long as 
they observe their paroles and the laws in force where they may 
reside. 

U. S. Grant, Lieutenant-General. 

While Grant was penning these words he chanced to look up, 
and his eyes fell upon Gen. Lee's sword. He paused for a mo- 
ment, his mind conceived a new thought, and he inserted in 
the document the provision that "this will not embrace the side 
arms of the officers, nor their private horses or baggage.''' 

Gen. Lee read what Grant had written. He was touched 
by the clemency of the victorous commander, and, on laying 
down the paper, said simply, in a husky tone of voice, "Mag- 
nanimous, General." But he essayed to gain a few points, and 
remarked : 

"The horses of mv cavalrv and artillerv. General, are the 
property of the soldiers. It is, I hope, within the terms that they 
shall retain their property." 

"It is not within the terms," replied Gen. Grant. 

Lee glanced at the paper again, and then said : 



CAMP A,ND FIT7LD, 661 

"No. You are right. The terms do not allow it." 

"And now," said Grant, "I believe the war is over, and that 
the surrender of this army will be followed soon by that of all 
the others. I know that the men, and, indeed, the whole South, 
are impoverished. I will not change the terms of the surrender, 
Gen. Lee, but I will instruct my officers who receive the paroles 
to allow the cavalry and artillery-men to retain their horses, and 
take them home to work their littie farms." 

"Such an act on your part. General," replied Lee, " will have 
the best effect in the South." 

He then sat down and wrote out the following letter : 

( Headquarters Army of Northern 
\ Virginia, April 9, 1865. 

General : I received your letter of this date containing the 
terms of the surrender of the army of northern Virginia as pro- 
posed by you. As they are substantially the same as those ex- 
pressed in your letter of the 8th inst., they are accepted. I will 
proceed to designate the proper officers to carry the stipulations 
into effect. 

R. E. Lee, General. 

Lieut. -Gen. U. S. Grant. 

Gen. Grant returned to his headquarters, where the firing of 
salutes w^elcomed him. He gave orders to have it stopped at 
once. 

"The war is over," he said; "the rebels are our countrymen 
again, and the best sign of rejoicing will be to abstain from all 
demonstrations in the field." 

He dismounted by the roadside, sat down on a stone, and call- 
ed for pencil and paper. An aide-de-camp offered him his order 
book, taking which, he wrote: 

Hon. E. M. Stanton. Secretary of War, Washington : 

Gen. Lee surrendered the army of northern Virginia this after- 
noon on terms proposed by myself. The accompanying addi- 
tional correspondence will show the condition fully. 

U. S. Grant, Lieutenant-General. 



662 CAMP AND FIELD- 

And thus Grant announced to the government the end of the 
great rebellion. 

FROM THE WAR DEPARTMENT. 

Washington, D. C, April 9th, 1865. 
Lieutenant-General Grant : 

Thanks be to Almighty God for the great victory with which 
He has this day crowned you and the gallant armies under your 
command. The thanks of this department and of the Government 
and of the people of the United States, their reverence and nonor 
have been deserved and will be rendered to you and the brave and 
gallant Officers and Soldiers of your Army for all time. 

Edwin M.Stanton, 

Sec'v of War, 




HOW WE YELLED. 



MAKING A NIGHT OF IT OVER THE NEWS OF LEE'S 

SURRENDER. 



BY W. F HINMAN, 65th OHIO. 




>ERE you in the army? If 3-011 were, yoii can appre- 
(n ciate — otherwise vou cannot — the storv which fol- 
ffc) lows. There are thousands yet living who took 
C" part in that scene of wild rejoicing, and if there 
are any who will say that I overstate the facts, let them stand up 
and be counted. 

For nearlv four years we had been tramping and fighting, hav- 
ing our full share of all that falls to the lot of soldiers in time of 
war. The month of April, 1865, found us away up among the 
mountains of East Tennessee, a hundred miles above Knoxville. 
Our fighting ended at Nashville, and we were glad of it. We had 
had all we wanted — and more. We were railroaded to East Ten- 
nessee to occupy a post of observation. We were not likely to 
have anv hot work there, unless Lee's army, when driven from 
Richmond, should come that way. But it did not get as far as 
that before Grant and Sheridan brought Lee to terms, and this is 
what the riot was all about. 

Night had settled down over our bivouac. "Taps" had been 
sounded, and most of the soldiers had "turned in." A few yet 
lingered about the fires, smoking their pipes and wondering if 
the war would not soon come to an end. Suddenly a bugler at 
division headquarters blew the "Fall in!" The notes rang out 
clear and sharp, and there was instant commotion. Nothing 
could have been more unexpected, but we had heard that call a 
good many times before, at all hours of day and night. There 
was but one thing to do, and that was to obey. Men came 
tumbling out of their "pup" tents, half dressed, getting into 
their blouses and buckling on their accoutrements as they ran to 
the color line. It w^asn't more than a minute till every regiment 
was formed. Everybody was asking his neighbor what was 
"up," but nobody knew. 

Presently, as we stood in line, an orderly came up on the run 
and handed a message to the colonel. He read it by the light of 



664 CAMP AND FIELD. 

a fire, jumped four feet into the air, and let off a yell that would 
have been creditable to a Comanche Indian. He handed it to the 
adjutant, who glanced at it and jumped higher and \'elled louder 
than the colonel. 

"Read it to the boys, quick ! " exclaimed the latter. It was a 
copy of a dispatch announcing the surrender of Lee to Grant. 

No pen can do justice to the scene that ensued. The first 
thing was to yell, for that was the soldier's way of letting oif 
steam. All the other regiments started in at the same time that 
we did, and such a vocal chorus no man ever heard before nor 
since. The soldiers danced and hugged one another in a delirium 
of joy, all the time shouting and yelling until their lungs were ex- 
hausted. It was as if five thousand lunatics from Bedlam had 
been turned loose. 

After the first ebullition, the men began to cast about for some- 
thing else with which to make a noise. Bugles, fifes and drums 
were brought into requisition, and all the bands played, but in 
the furious racket no tune could be distinguished. Nor was it of 
the least consequence whether they played an}' tune or not, only 
so that they made as much noise as possible. Then the artillery 
began to fire and regiments to discharge volleys of musketry'. 
Tearing the balls from their cartridges and throwing them upon 
the ground, the men rammed in the rest and blazed away. Then 
came an order from headquarters to issue a double ration of 
whisky all around. Some excellent people will say this was a 
reprehensible thing, but— well, the chances are that such persons 
have not "been there." At all events, the "commissar^' " was 
issued, and its stimulating effect was soon felt. The men did the 
most extravagant and unheard-of things. They climbed trees, 
made mock speeches from stumps and logs, tramped about 
beating camp-kettles and pans with sticks, and indulged in 
pranks and antics of every conceivable sort. 

All night they kept it up. Nobody thought of slecji. The gen- 
erals and colonels made as much noise as the rest in pro]iortion 
to their numbers, and some of them got just as drunk— to use a 
word that everybody will understand. No attempt was made to 
check the exuberance of the soldiers. The officers told them to 
"go in," and themselves set the example. The sentinels out on 
the picket line did not know for a while the cause of all the noise, 
and thev thought the camp had been attacked l)y the rebels and 
an awful fight was going on ; whi'e the mountaineers, who lived 
within hearing distance, were frightened almost out of their wits. 
It was a wild, tempestuous night. 



JEFF DAVIS'S CAPTURE. 



THE EX-PRESIDENT'S VERSION OF THE AFFAIR. 



DENIAL OF THE FEMALE DISGUISE STORY. 







ll^N the evening of the 9th 
of May, preparations 
'^^'' were made for departure 
(from Irwin ville, Ga.) immedi- 
ately after nightfall, when 
Col. W. P. Johnston returned 
from a neighboring village 
with the report that a band of 
one hundred and fifty men 
were to attack the camp that 
night. 

Meantime my horse, already 
saddled, with his holsters and 
blankets in place, was in 
charge of my body servant and 
I was lying clothed, booted and 
even spurred, when, a little 
after daybreak, the alarm was 
given that the camp was at- 
tacked. Springing to my feet 
and stepping out of the tent I 
saw at once, from the manner 
in which the assailants were 
deploying around the camp, 
that they were trained soldiers 
and not irregular banditti, and 
returning I so informed Mrs. 
Davis. 

As I have said, I was already 
fully dressed. I hastily took 




leave of my wife, who threw 
over my shoulders a waterproof 
cloak or wrapper as a protec- 
tion from the dampness of the 
early morning, and with the 
hope that it might serve as a 
partial disguise. She also di- 
rected a female servant who 
was present to take an empty 
bucket and follow me in the 
direction of the spring, my 
horse, on the other side of the 
camp, being cut off from ac- 
cess by the interposition of the 
assailants. 



666 



CAMP AND FIELD.. 



I had advanced only a few 
steps from the door of the tent 
when I was challenged by a 
mounted soldier, who pre- 
sented his carbine and ordered 
me to "surrender." I an- 
swered: " I never surrender to 
a band of thieves." The car- 
bine was still presented, but 
the man refrained from firing 
— it is but fair to presume from 
an unwillingness to kill his ad- 
versary — while I continued to 
advance. This was not from 
desperation or foolhardy reck- 
lessness, but of deliberate pur- 
pose. Observing that the man, 
who was finely mounted, was 
so near as to be considerably 
above me, I had little appre- 
hension of being hit, and be- 
lieved that by taking advan- 



tage of the excitement of the 
shot I might easily tip him 
from the saddle and get pos- 
session of his horee. The feas- 
ibility of this design was not to 
be tested, however, for at this 
moment Mrs. Davis, seeing 
only my danger, and animated 
by a characteristic and heroic 
determination to share it, ran 
forward and threw her arms 
around my neck, with impas- 
sioned exclamation. The only 
hope of escape had depended 
upon bringing the matter to an 
immediate issue, and, seeing 
this was now lost, I said, 
"God's will be done," and 
quietly turned back and seated 
myself upon a fallen tree, near 
which a camp fire was burn- 
ing. 



First Fraternity Between Foes. 



BRITISH INTERFERENCE. 



'pHE first gleam of fraternal light 
wliich beamed upon the dark feel- 
ings ruling the great contest was 
brought forth by a letter from the 
officers of the 12th Ark. Regt to the 
officers of the 165th N. Y., at the time of 
the battle of Port Hudson in 1863. 



(^ECRETARY SEWARD'S letter of 
October 6, 1861, was the first official 
document laid before the people of 
England in which the British govern- 
ment was notified that it would be held 
responsible for damages done by the 
privateer Alabama. 



First Yessel Captured by Confeder- 
ates. 



"^HE first vessel captured by the 
Confederate cruisers was the Harvey 
Burch. She belonged to Mr. John 
Brown, of New York. 



Guardincr Davis at Fortress Monroe. 

o 

CHAS. S. TRIPLER, 12th U. S. Infantry. 



N 1865 I was first lieutenant in the 12th United States 
Infantry, and, in the absence of my captain, com- 
. —y j .. manded Company E of the 1st battalion of that regi- 
/W-^ ment. Early in October I was ordered to Fortress Mon- 
roe, and reported for duty to Gen, N. A. Miles. My rank as 
lieutenant subjected me to detail as officer of the guard, and, as 
such, I had for the twenty-four hours of my detail immediate 
charge of our distinguished prisoner, my orders being ''not to 
-allow him out of my sight during my tour of duty.'' Mr. Davis 
was confined to a room in Carroll Hall, which was designed as 
quarters for lieutenants entitled to two rooms only, so all the 
rooms, except the mess hall and library, are in suites of two 
rooms each. The doorways were all grated with iron, and a 
sentry walked before each on a pile of cocoa matting some four 
inches thick. The officer of the guard was not allowed to leave 
the room unless relieved by the officer of the day, nor to sleep 
at all during his twenty-four hours of duty. The grated win- 
dows were locked, the keys being in the custody of the officer of 
the day. As was the custom, on my first day of duty as officer 
of the guard I was introduced by my predecessor to Mr. Davis 
thus: "Mr. Davis, Mr. Tripler of the 12th." Mr. Davis said: 
"Are you Stuart Tripler?" I said: "Yes, sir." He then said 
he remembered my grandmother (Mrs. Hunt) and had very 
pleasant recollections of my father (Surgeon Tripler of the 
army). We had that day no further conversation until the 
time came for his daily walk around the parapet. At that 
time the officer of the day came, accompanied by two negro 
prisoners, unlocked the door, when Mr. Davis, dressed in snuff- 
colored clothes, with a Raglan overcoat and soft, high-crowned, 
black felt hat, stepped into my room. General Miles entered 
at this time with the daily papers, which were placed on a 
table in Mr. D.'s room. The prisoners commenced at once to 



668 CAMP AND FIELD. 

clean up the room, and we left in the following order: Mr. 
Davis and officers of the guard, ten paces behind two sentries, 
a couple of paces behind them the officer of the day, and lastly, 
some distance off General Miles strolled along reading. 

We took our time, and Mr. Davis, by his instructive and most 
entertaining conversation, rendered this a most delightful duty. 
He seemed to know everything. He had the unusual faculty 
of drawing a young man out and making him show his best 
side. We would sometimes stop abreast of the water battery, 
in front of the commanding officers' quarters, and recline on 
the crest of the works, where he would relate pleasant stories 
of the old army, ask after common friends, and often give me 
points in my profession which were invaluable. To show how 
small a matter he would notice and speak of, there were a number 
of trees growing along one of the fronts of the casements which 
bore clusters of small white berries, Mr. Davis said: " Lieuten- 
ant Tripler, I saw you riding a nice looking horse the other 
day, but it is out of condition. Those berries you see there are 
one of the best condition medicines I know of, and you can find 
them all over the South; remember that; it's worth knowing." 
On our return Dr. Cooper's servant came in with Mr. Davis's 
lunch. All his meals were supplied from Dr. Cooper's table, 
and Mrs, Cooper was a notable housewife, and the markets of 
Fortress Monroe were well supplied; you may be sure Mr. Davis 
did not suffer. The only request he ever made me during the 
time I was stationed there was to bring him a few apples each 
time I came on guard, which I did. I rather think he asked me 
for the sake of letting me think I was doing him a favor in re- 
turn for his exceeding kindness to my grandmother when he 
was Secretary of War, He could make a request in such a way 
that you felt he had conferred a favor on you in preferring it, 

C, C. Clay was confined in the rooms directly beneath Mr. 
Davis, but as Mrs. Clay was with him he was not guarded 
as Mr, Davis was. Mrs. Clay used to send sometimes a 
pitcher of punch to Mr, Davis, My orders not forbidding it. the 
pitcher was always passed in. Mr. Davis was supplied with 
good cigars by his friends. I know they were good, because 
Mr, Davis remarked that " smokers are gregarious, and I can't 
enjoy a cigar alone," and offered me one nearly every night, 
after he had assumed his night robes — he wore a red flannel 
nightgown, cap, and drawers. He was never annoyed, insulted, 



CAMP AND FIELD. 669 

or worriea during his stay. General Miles was coldly civil, and 
others '* officially polite." I, perhaps, was more kindly disposed, 
but I never exceeded my instructions. I think Mr. Davis will 
himself give the lie to the exaggerated accounts of his sufferings. 
Imprisonment is not pleasant under the most favorable circum- 
stances, and no fallen chief of a great movement could have 
received more considerate treatment than did Mr. Davis. 




BRAVE and godly captain in a Western regiment re- 
lated the following as we were taking him to the hospital. 
^, He was shot through both thighs with a rifle bullet — a 
wound from which he could not recover. While lying on the 
field he suffered intense agony from thirst. He supported his 
head upon his hand, and the rain from heaven was falling 
around him. In a little while a little pool of water formed 
under his elbow, and he thought if he could only get to that 
puddle he might quench his thirst. He tried to get into a posi- 
tion to suck up a mouthful of muddy water, but he was unable 
to reach within a foot of it. Said he, " I never felt so much the 
loss of any earthly blessing. 

"By and by night fell, and the stars shone out clear and 
beautiful above the dark field, and I began to think of that 
great God, who had given His Son to die a death of agony for 
me, and that He was up there — up above the scenes of suffering, 
and above those glorious stars; and I felt that I was going 
home to meet Him, and praise Him there; and I felt that I 
ought to praise God, even wounded, and on the battle field. I 
could not help singing that beautiful hymn, 

" ' When I can read my title clear 
To mansions in the skies, 
I'll bid farewell to every fear, 
And dry my weeping eyes.* 

"And," said he, "there was a Christian brother in the brush 
near me. I could not see him, but I could hear him. He took 
up the strain; and beyond him another and another caught it 
up all over the terrible battle field of Shiloh. That night the 
echo was resounding, and we made the field of battle ring with 
hymns of praise to God! " 



VlbSON'S RAID. 



THE LAST GREAT EXPEDITION OF THE WAR. 



CAPTURE OF SELMA, MONTGOMERY. COLUMBUS, MACON 

AND JEFF DAVIS. 



FIGHTING, FORAGING AND MARCHING THROUGH THE SUNNY 

SOUTH. 



CAPTALN W. E. DOYLE. 




)0T being a historian nor the son of a historian, I can 
only narrate what came under my observation as a 
staff officer on the great raid of General Wilson's 
command through Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia 
in 1865, and I will try to keep as strictly near the truth as old 
soldiers do in recounting their campaigns. 

After the battle of Nashville, in v^hich the cavalry attached to 
the Army of the Cumberland played so important a part, the 
shattered remnants of Hood's army were pursued and driven 
down through Tennessee, and the mounted warriors only desisted 
from their labors when they reached the Tennessee river, where 
scarcity of rations and forage, as well as bitter cold weather, 
compelled them to halt in the vicinity of Florence, Alabama, and 
thev established their winter camjjs fifteen miles below there, at a 
place called Gravelly Springs, to await supplies. 

Thus far cavalry had, perhaps, never been known to do as 
well in action. Our badlv mounted men had charged the rebel 



CAMP AND FIELD. 671 

infantry lines again and again, and those who were dismounted 
were in the line of battle with our infantry, doing their part with 
credit. 

The rebel cavalry confronting us in March, 1865, were in much 
greater numbers than our troopers, those under Forrest and 
Wheeler being estimated at twenty thousand men, while Arm- 
strong, Gholson, Ferguson, Jackson and Roddc}' had a consider- 
able iorce under them. The Union forces which moved in March, 
1865, under General J. H. Wilson, in the three divisions commanded 
by McCook, Long and Upton, numbered about twelve thousand 
mounted men, in addition to which Major Archer was in com- 
mand of fifteen hundred dismounted men to protect the wagons 
and pontoon train of two hundred and fifty teams under Captain 
Brown. The hard winter had caused the loss of many horses, 
although Long's division had been remounted in the earlv part, 
and to mount the three divisions mentioned, General Ed. Hatch's 
division had to be dismounted and were left at Eastport, Mis- 
sissippi, the intention being for them to join the column should 
they receive horses in time. General B. H. Grierson, with a divi- 
sion under Knipe, was left to protect the vast extent of countrv 
on the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers, and westward to the 
Mississippi, while General W^ R.Johnson's division remained in 
"Tennessee. 

Wilson's men were highly elated, after their hard winter in 
camp, when, about the thirteenth of March, 1865, thev received 
orders to prepare to move, and the steamboats Swal/ow, Echo 
and Westmoreland were kept busy until the eighteenth, ferrying 
the command across the Tennessee river at Waterloo landingf. The 
extra baggage was packed and shipped back to Louisville, for trans- 
portation was reduced to two wagons to each brigade, and those 
hauled the regimental desks and other necessary material. Officers 
were reduced to the same amount of baggage as the men, 
but there was no grumbling. The remembrance of having taken 
from the enemy, in December, thirty-two guns, eleven caissons, 
three thousand two hundred and thirt}- prisoners and tv^elve 
stand of colors, besides compelling him to abandon or destrov 
over one hundred wagons and ambulances and one thousand 
three hundred and forty-eight mules, was an incentive to braver 
deeds in the future. Besides this, there was a desire to push 
further south, for during the pursuit of Hood from Nashville the 
w^eather had been extremely cold, wet and rainy, and the countrv 
where they had wintered was a cheerless waste of forest and 
mud, destitute of supplies of any kind, in addition to which the 



672 CAMP AND FIELD 

most of the winter had been spent on short rations, and the 
men frequently had to eat the corn furnished for their horses. 

General Grant's orders required the movement of a force of 
six or eight thousand men, to demonstrate against Tuscaloosa, 
Selma or Montgomery, so as to co-operate with and aid General 
Canby, operating against Mobile. Forrest's command was at 
West Point, Mississippi, about one hundred and fifty miles south 
of Eastport, while Roddey's forces were near Montevallo, on the 
Alabama & Tennessee railroad, as far away to the southeast. 

The country for ninety miles south of the Tennessee river v^as 
almost barren, and had been stripped of what little it produced, 
so forage had to be carried for the horses. 

On the twenty-second of March the First, Second and Fourth 
Divisions of Cavalry of the Military Division of the Mississippi, 
commanded respectively- by Brigadier-general E. M. McCook, 
first lieutenant Fourth Cavalry; Brigadier-general Eli Long, 
captain Fourth Cavalry, and Brevet Major-general Emory 
Upton, first lieutenant Fifth Artillery, commenced the movement 
south from Chickasaw, on the Tennessee river. Wilson, under 
the instructions of General Grant and the permission of General 
Thomas, had almost perfect freedom of action, and when the 
movement commenced Forrest was greatly perplexed to know 
the objective point at which it aimed. 

Each trooper was supplied with five days' light rations in 
haversacks, one hundred rounds of ammunition and one pair 
of extra horseshoes. The pack-mules were loaded with five days' 
hard bread, ten da^^s' sugar, ten days' salt, and the wagons with 
fortj^-five days' coffee, twenty da3's' sugar, fifteen days' salt and 
eighty rounds of ammunition for each man. This allowance was 
expected to last during a sixty days' campaign, and only hard 
bread enough was supplied to carry the command through the 
sterile portions of Alabama, as after that they were expected 
to live on the country, in a rich section where no Union forces 
had been before, and where war had made no mark. 

When the start was made, down came the rain, unceasing rain, 
and the roads became terrible. Such a largecommand of cavalry, 
with artillery, two hundred and fift^' wagons, and a pontoon train 
of thirty canvas boats, drawn by fifty-six six-mule teams, found 
progress very diflScult. The roads were cut to pieces by the 
advance brigade, and all others had to scatter out and march 
through the woods and jungle as best they could. The battalion 
of the Twelfth Missouri Cavalry, under Major Hubbard, had to 
call for help to assist them with the trains. New roads had to be 



CAMP AND FIELD. 673 

cut and brushed for the artillery, and the details worked until 
midnight to get up with the command, or, failing in that, threw 
themselves on the water-soaked ground to wait until daylight for 
assistance. It was terribly hard on man and horse, but no time 
could be lost, as the rebels undoubtedly had word of the advance, 
and it was necessary that they should be struck before they had 
time to concentrate. 

Running east and west between the various affluents of the 
Alabama river, on the south, and the Tennessee, on the north, is 
a range of hills, the divide between the two streams. They are 
rugged and broken, and are dignified by the name of mountains. 
In this section the people, being poor, were mostly of Union 
proclivities, and from this part of the country the First Alabama 
Cavalry (Union) was raised, under Colonel Spencer, afterwards 
United States senator. Over the rough and muddy roads of this 
ridge land the command toiled, escorted by many of the hardy 
hillsmen who acted as guides, and then descended to the valleys. 

General Upton's division, followed by his train, took the 
advance and passed Barton's Station, on the Memphis & Charles- 
ton railroad, and thence passed Throgmorton's Mills, Russel- 
ville, Mount Hope and Jasper, to Sanders' Ferry, on the Black 
"Warrior river, which it reached on the twenty-seventh. 

General Long's division marched through Cherokee Station, 
Frankfort and Russelville, and thence crossing the forks of the 
Buttahatchie, passed Thorn Hill and Antioch church, and thence, 
via Jasper, to the Black Warrior river, which it reached at 12 p. 
m. on the twenty-eighth. 

General McCook's division followed Long's to the Upper Bear 
creek, and then moved on the Tuscaloosa to Eldridge, after- 
wards turning east to Jasper. 

From Chickasaw to Russelville w^as forty-one miles, and thence 
to Tuscaloosa one hundred and fifty miles. Up to this time 
about one hundred and sixteen miles had been marched in the six 
days, when the command was all along the Mulberry fork of 
the Black Warrior river, just before reaching which a terrible rain 
fell and the river was found to be in flood. The crossing was 
therefore beset with great difficulty, and the men had to swim 
their horses, leaving pontoons, wagons and artillery far in the 
rear. A number of horses and some men were drowned in the 
crossing, and it required considerable skill to get the packs and 
mules across this one-hundred-yard stream, whose steep, high 
banks rendered the approach to the ford very difficult. 



674 CAMP AND FIELD. 

The next fork of the Black Warrior, called "Locust," was 
crossed b3' a beautiful ford, curving down stream, and could be 
followed by the change in the appearance of the water. One mile 
from this ford McCook's and Long's divisions remained until the 
morning of the thirtieth, while Upton pushed on to Elyton, 
where he arrived on the twenty-ninth. 

Up to this time but few rebel soldiers were seen. At Russelville 
only a few old men were around, but at Jasper quite a number of 
the enemy's scouts were captured. The inhabitants reported 
that a great many skulkers and deserters were hiding in the hills 
and woods to escape Forrest's patrols, and it was soon learned 
that Forrest had divined the intentions of Wilson and was 
moving with all haste to head him off from Selma, while Chal- 
mers was moving with like speed to Tuscaloosa. 

The command w^as now in a rich country, and geese, turkeys 
and chickens added to the rations of the men, while there was 
forage in abundance for the animals. The plantation houses 
were imposing and the negro quarters commodious, evidencing 
the wealth of the people, for from the fertile Tennessee valW on 
the north to the rich gulf coast, there is such a combination of 
natural treasures as no country in Europe can boast. 

At Elyton, on March 30, General Croxton was detached, with 
his brigade, of McCook's division, with orders to proceed wnth 
all speed to Tuscaloosa, to destroy the public stores, military 
school, bridges, foundries and factories at that place, and then 
to join the main column at Selma. It was expected that 
Croxton's march would attract the attention of a considerable 
force of the enemy, and if he w^as too strongly attacked he 
could fall back on the corps or train. 

The cavalry corps all reached Montevallo on the thirty-first, 
Upton in advance, and on the route they had destroyed the Red 
Mountain, Central, Bibb and Columbiana iron w^orks, Catawba 
rolling mills, and much other valuable property. In the rich 
valleys the cotton-gins, \vith their stores of that staple, were 
destroyed, it being well known that the Confederacy had claimed 
possession of all cotton, to be paid for in Confederate money. 
The command had crossed the Catawba river on the railroad 
bridge, and passed long lines of coalpits on the roadside before 
reaching Montevallo, and at these works and pits were numbers 
of detailed Confederate soldiers and citizens, who watched the 
command as it went by, and gazed with admiration on General 
W^ilson and his brilliant staff and escort of two companies of the 
Fourth United States Cavalry, as they dashed by. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 675 

The staff consisted of Major E. B. Beaumont, adjutant-general ; 
Dr. Salter, medical director; Major C. L. Greeno, Seventh Penn- 
sjdvania Cavalry, provost-marshal ; and the aids, etc.; Captain 
John N. Andrews, Eighth United States Infantry ; Captain L. M. 
Hosea, Twelfth United States Infantry; Major H. E. Noyes, 
Second United States Cavalry, Captain Chas. Goddard, and 
Captain Neeland, Fourth Indiana Cavalry. 

At Montevallo the enemy were first felt in force, and Upton's 
mounted skirmishers became hotly engaged with them, their 
orders being to retire if pressed too hard, Upton holding his 
division massed behind the village. The skirmishers fell slowly 
back, when Alexander's brigade moved along the road at a trot 
until clear of the village. Then the Fifth Iowa, Colonel Young 
commanding, made a handsome charge, capturing fifty prisoners 
from Roddey's division and Crossland's (Lyon's) Kentucky 
brigade. Upton drove the enemy toward Randolph, where 
Roddey again attempted to make a stand, but was driven off by 
Winslow's brigade and a few shots from Rodney's batter \', 
Fourth United States Artillery. Long's splendid division of 
five thousand troopers having closed up, the command halted on 
the road near Randolph, fourteen miles from Montevallo, all 
merrv and happy and living on the fat of the land. 

On the first of April, 1865, Upton took a road to the east 
through Maplesville, known as the old Selma road, while General 
Long pushed forward on the main road, confronted by theenemy ; 
while General Ed. McCook was sent with La Grange's brigade 
to Centerville to communicate with Croxton, as a message had 
been received from him stating that he was in the rear of Jack- 
son's (rebel) division, near Triune. Dispatches were captured 
this day, which revealed Forrest's intentions, exposing his plans, 
and giving the disposition of his troops. The courier was taken 
by a scouting party of the Ninety-eighth Ulinoismounted infantry, 
and when pursued endeavored to dispose of his dispatches by 
eating them, but the paper choked him some, and the close shoot- 
ing compelled him to halt with a mouthful of material that was 
soon brought out by a little squeezing. The poor fellow wanted 
to perform his supposed duty, but the Yankees were too quick for 
him. 

The men had plenty of fun reading letters captured in the post- 
offices at the various small towns, the love-letters to .soldiers in 
the rebel army being in the majority. Here is a sample of one of 
them, addressed to Mr. George Jewell, Thirty-eighth Alabama: 



676 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Jasper, Ala., March 27, 1S65. 

Dear George: Oh! when will I see 3^011 again ? My heart is ^-earning for j^ou.. 
Ever\'- time I hear the Bonnie Blue Flag sung it almost makes me cry, for that \va& 
vour'favorite tune. We get no news clown here, but heard you whipped the Yan- 
kees again. Whv don't you whip them good and have done with it, and then 
come home? It is so lonesome here with all tlie young men gone, and now they 
say they are going to take the home guards off, and then there will be no men at 
all, so lis girls will have to be the home guards, and I suppose be in arms. But if 
there's no arms (?i, what then. Ha! Ha! Now, don't think I'm funny, jilease. 
I was at a party at Stewart's, and there was a gentleman there who lives near 
Thorn Hill, and" who was wounded and on furlough. He was telling about the 
hard times lying on the ground, and how the}^ fought and killed the Yankees, and 
he got us all so excited that we wished that we were men, to go and fight for our 
homes and liberty. 

We all send our kindest regards to the other boys of the company', but I send 
you my love, George, and a dozen kisses to cheer you in your peril. 

Your own true girl, Emma Newb\'. 

George never received that letter, and he must have felt bad 
about having his ration of kisses cut short; but he was not the 
only one in the same fix. This letter was apparently written by 
an intelligent young lady, but some of them were terrific speci- 
mens and full of bitterness and gall. They had not the least idea 
that the Yankees were so close when the epistles were indited, or 
they would hardly have trusted them to the Confederate mail. 

At a house near Randolph two rebel soldiers were found hidden 
under the floor. They were taken prisoners, but General Long 
allowed them to remain at the house, to be turned over to the 
rear-guard. When the latter approached, the captors said to the 
Confederates: "Get ready, now, and bid your folks good-by." 
One of these Confeds was married to the daughter of the man 
of the house, and the other was his brother-in-law. They shook 
hands with the old man and old woman, and the boy shook 
hands with his sister. She had a snuff-stick protruding from her 
left jaw, and when her husband came to kiss her good-by she 
never even removed it. I was passitig at the time, and felt like 
calling out, "Mind your eye, old fellow," for it looked to me, 
from the length of the piece of dogwood, that his optic would 
surely suffer damage. 

At'Elyton — quite a nice little village— a conscript officer and a 
couple of old men guards came in with four men who had been 
home on furlough, and whose term of leave had expired. The 
conscript officer saw the command approaching the town, and be- 
lieving them to be Forrest's men, hurried up with his charges, so 
as to be able to turn them over to be taken forward to their regi- 
ments. It was very hard for the advance guard, who scooped 
him in, to make him believe they were Yankees. He laughed, and 



CAMP AND fit<;ld, 677 

said: ** That's all right, boys, but yer can't fool me. I'm up to 
these old tricks. I was in the Mexican war mj'self, an' I know all 
about these jokes." Then he got angry, and swore that if they 
fooled with him much more, he'd report them to Montgomery or 
General Forrest. But he soon found out that he was mistaken, 
and that the advance-guard had told him the truth, when he was 
sent back to the other prisoners and made lo march with them 
until night. Next morning he was paroled and let go, its were 
also the other elderly men, but even then he seemed mystified and 
doubtful, as if he thought a prank was being plaA^ed upon him, 
the blue uniforms not seeming to convince him at all. When he 
left us in the morning he said to one of the gviards, with whom he 
had become familiar: "I would jest like to see once what kind o' 
flags you-all carry." The man told him the stars and stripes, 
but as he had not seen the colors, he doubted, like Thomas, even 
with all the convincing facts before him. 

At Jasper there was a very neat country' college on a hill about 
half a mile from the town, perched upon iin isolated eminence, 
surrounded by woods. The dome of the building could just be 
seen from the village, and an officer of the command asked an old 
butternut-clothed countryman what the edifice was, pointing to 
it at the same time. He responded, "Thar's whar' thev keeps 
witches' bones an' rocks to make gold out ov." 

An examination revealed a very fine osteological and mineral 
collection in this little college at Jasper, which was visited bv 
many officers and men of the command during our brief stav, and 
which was not disturbed or tampered with. It seems to me, from 
remembrance, that this very creditable collection should have a 
better home than in the little hill college, and I have no doubt 
that the State of Alabama or the Smithsonian Institute would 
make haste to secure it if they only knew of the treasure. 

The route of Wilson's raid down to this first dav of April, 
1865, has almost followed the route now taken by the B., S. & T. 
R. R., and the Red Mountain and other iron works destroj-ed 
were in the section of which Birmingham is now the center, 
then a wild unsettled country, with scattered cabins in forest 
clearings, from w^hich scrawny-faced women and dirty children 
peered forth as we passed. It is probable that these iron in- 
dustries and mines would have remained undevelojDcd until this 
time, were it not for the Wilson raid and the publicity given to 
these ore deposits by newspaper writers in the partv. Further- 
more, a public sale of captured ordnance after the war led 
speculators to inqviire where the iron was obtained from 



678 QAMF AND fii:ld„ 

which all the heavy ordnance was cast at Selma. They pur- 
chased these guns from Selma and the forts around Mobile 
very cheap. The purchasers sawed these heavy guns into sec- 
tions of three or four feet long, so as to handle them easily, 
and shipped them to Philadelphia. There, upon working 
the iron, they found it to be of a very superior quality, better 
even than that obtained in the vicinity of Pittsburgh, and inves- 
tigation developed the fact that at the Red Mountain there was 
untold quantities of red and brown hematite ore, and not that 
alone, but close by, all along the Black Warrior and Cahawba 
rivers were inexhaustible beds of coal, covering thousands of 
square miles, while near at hand were exhaustive beds of lime- 
stone and sandstone. The mines were reopened, towns sprung 
up like magic, and the dreary country through which Wilson's 
troopers trudged soon became, as it is now, a busy, bustling man- 
ufacturing section, knowing nothing of the war, and without 
even a recollection of how its mineral treasures became known to 
the country at large. 

But I am ahead of my narrative — for we are now advancing 
towards Selma, and Forrest is retiring slowly before Long. 
Wilder's mounted infantry brigade is in advance, consisting of the 
Seventeenth and Seveaty-second Indiana, and the Ninety-eighth 
and One Hundred and Twenty-third Illinois. The Seventy-second 
Indiana, dismounted, is deployed on each side of the road, push- 
ing the rebel cavalry, who gallop out, fire, and fall back. By 3 
o'clock we had made twenty-two miles — by relieving the dis- 
mounted men when tired, the rest of the brigade being well closed 
up in the narrow road behind them. At this time, Forrest, rein- 
forced by Armstrong's brigade, of Chalmers' division, a body ot 
militia, and a command from Selma, formed of soldiers home on 
furlough, etc., halted at Ebenezer church, five miles from Planters- 
ville and twenty-nine from Selma, and gave battle. He chose his 
position north of Bogue's creek, his right resting on Mulberry creek , 
and his left on a high wooded ridge, with three pieces of artillery 
on the Randolph road to oppose Long, and two pieces on the 
Maplesville road by which Upton was advancing. His forces con- 
sisted of Roddey's division, Crossland's Kentucky brigade, Arm- 
strong's brigade, of Chalmers' division, and about five hundred 
infantry and militia, nearly five thousand in all, in a splendid 
position covering the forks of the road, and with slashed timber 
and rail barricades along their front. 

When the resistance to the Seventy-second Indiana became 
stubborn. General Long, believing that it was only a small force 



CAMP AND FIELD. 679 

of cavalry, sent forward four companies of the Seventeenth 
Indiana, led by Lieutenant-colonel Frank White and Adjutant 
W. E. Doyle, to clear the road. This command of two hundred 
and twenty men advanced with drawn sabers, dashed into Pat- 
terson's Alabama regiment and scattered it to the winds; then 
charging on, they struck Forrest's line of battle, galloped through 
it and on to the artillery, which had been firing as they advanced. 
They passed through the guns, breaking the wheel of one piece 
in the jam which ensued, and there beyond them was another line 
of battle, while Forrest, with his body-guard, was at the road- 
side. Colonel White turned the command off to the lelt,but Cap- 
tain James D. Taylor, commanding the advance company (G) did 
not hear the orders, so he dashed at the party under Forrest, and 
a hand-to-hand fight ensued, in which Forrest was sabered bv him 
on the head and wrist. Colonel White cut his way out around 
the enemy's rear, losing eight men killed and sixteen wounded and 
captured in this gallant charge. Forrest is said to have killed 
Captain Taylor with his revolver, and afterward spoke to General 
Wilson of thecaptain's gallantry, and appeared to regret his death. 
When the charge of the Seventeenth Indiana was made, Upton, 
who was coming on the other road, hearing the cheers and firing, 
took the trot, with Alexander's brigade in front, and turned For- 
rest's right flank, driving him back, while his front line being de- 
moralized by White's charge, caused him to fall back in confusion, 
with a loss of three guns and four hundred prisoners. He had 
expected Chalmers up to support his right flank, but that officer 
had gone to Marion with Starke's brigade. As Wilson's command 
marched past the captured guns, a band stationed there played 
patriotic airs, the men cheered, and all felt elated as they looked 
toward Selma, and moving five miles, the divisions of Long and 
Upton camped at Plantersville, twent^'-four miles from the ob- 
jective point, and the goal of the expedition. Here Captain Tay- 
lor and the other dead were buried, they having been stripped of 
nearly all their clothing and shoes by the rebels before they were 
cold; a brutal piece of business, as the rebel soldiers in this section 
had plenty of clothing, and although they wore the rawhideshoes 
manufactured by the Confederacy, those were good and substan- 
tial. It was an act of vandalism not to be excused, but Forrest's 
men bore that kind of a reputation, and our contact with them 
proved its truth. The five men of Taylor's companv who were 
captured were forwarded to Selma that night, one of them being 
Bob Logan who carried the company guidon. The Selma Sen- 
tinel of the next morning contained a glowing account of For- 



680 CAMP AND FIELD. 

rest's repulse of Wilson and the capture of a large number of 
prisoners, including a color-bearer with his flag. The paper, 
however, exhorted all the men to be promptly at their posts of 
duty, and the women and children to remain close indoors, as it 
was General Forrest's intention to permit the Yankee general to 
approach the works when he would overwhelm him with disaster 
and "send his robbing horde howling back to the Tennessee." 

On the morning of the second of April, 1865, Wilson's command 
broke camp at Plantersville to advance on Selma, twenty-four 
miles distant. The station at Randolph, with five hundred bales 
of cotton, had been fired overnight, and was a beacon-light, 
showing that the Yankees meant business. Plenty of forage was 
found at Plantersville, although the rebels had to be run out to 
obtain it, and we were all in excellent spirits when we took the 
saddle again. 

The whole country was well prepared for war purposes. In 
every district was a provost marshal, generally a wealthy plan- 
ter exempt from military service on account of the number of his 
slaves, and his corps consisted of old men, those unable to per- 
form military duty, and wealthy exempts, who formed the Home 
Guard. By their mounted men they kept advised of our presence 
— but by our rapid movements the rebel generals seemed to be 
puzzled. Chalmers -was still at Marion, Jackson was north of 
the Cahawba, looking after Croxton, and could not join Forrest, 
as McCook had burned the Centerville bridge. Forrest decided, 
against the advice of Armstrong, to fall back into Selma, but he 
was following his traditional policy, intending to hold Wilson's 
command in check at Selma until Chalmers could come up and 
fall upon its rear. 

General Wilson, however, pushed him closely. Long's division 
moved on the Plantersville road to within six miles of Selma, 
w^hen it crossed over to the Summerville road. Upton's division 
moved on the Range Line road, with a squadron moving parallel 
on the Burnsville road. Lieutenant Joe Rendlebrook, with a de- 
tachment of the Fourth United States cavalry, followed the rail- 
road, burning the stations and bridges, to Burnsville. Theenemy 
made no resistance. At Elyton General Wilson had received full 
description of the works at Selma, and when we came in front of 
them, early in the afternoon, the correctness of his information 
w^as confirmed. The long line of works extended around from 
the Alabama river on the east to the river again on the west, sur- 
rounded by cleared fields. The \vorks consisted of heavy infantry 
works, with a deep ditch in front, and palisades stuck in the 



CAMP AND FIELD. 681 

ground in front of them again. There were occasional salient 
works for artillery and heavy lunets covering the road. The rebel 
soldiers could be seen here and there on the works, and once in a 
while one would walk along the top of the works as if in a spirit 
of bravado. 

The plan was for Long to attack on the right on the line of the 
Summerville road, while Upton would attack on the left. In 
front of Selma the ground is nearly level for a mile, although on 
Long's line a low ridge approached within five hundred or six 
hundred yards of the enem3''s works, and behind this his division 
was hidden from observation and fire. The only approach to 
Selma on the Ridge Line road, where Upton was movmg, was b\' 
a corduroy road, while the fields to the right and left were almost 
impassable on account of the mud. The ground on each side of 
the Summerville road, where Long was in line, was tolerably 
firm. 

Upton was permitted to take three hundred men to penetrate a 
swamp to a point regarded by the enemy as least liable to attack, 
and to assault the works at a given signal, the rest of his division 
conforming to his movements. As soon as Upton's success was 
revealed, two shots from the Chicago Board of Trade battery on 
Long's front was to be the signal for a general advance. Long's 
rear was covered by a creek, which could only be passed by a 
bridge, and w^here six companies of the Sevent^'-second Indiana 
were posted. While waiting for Upton's movement. Long's rear 
w^as attacked b\' Chalmers, who had moved down from Marion 
in obedience to orders from Forrest, and who was now endeavor- 
ing to penetrateto Selma to join his chief. Longseeingthedanger, 
strengthened his rear with the NinetA'-eighth Illinois, and deter- 
mined to attack the works at once without waiting for Upton's 
turning movement. Dismounting the Seventeenth Indiana mount- 
ed infantry and One Hundred and Twenty-third Illinois mounted 
infantry, from Wilder's brigade (eight hundred and forty-nine offi- 
cers and men), and the Fourth Ohio and Seventh Pennsvlvania 
cavalry, from Minty's brigade (seven hundred and four officers 
and men), he led them in person against the works, ably seconded 
by Colonels Miller and Minty. 

These 1,553 men double-quicked across a six-hundred-yard field 
under a fire from about sixteen pieces of artillery and the musket- 
ry from the breastworks, tore up the palisades, jumped into the 
ditch, w^hich was five feet deep and fifteen feet wide, then climbed out 
and up upon the parapet six to eight feet high, and drove the enemy 
from his works and back toward a second line of unfinished de- 



682 CAMP AND FIELD, 

fenses in the town. The rebel forces on the part of the Hne at- 
tacked were Armstrong's brigade, the best troops under Forrest. 
The Seventeenth Indiana carried the salient works known as Forts 
15, 16 and 17, and the lunet near Fort 18, and these being at the 
apex of the works, they had a flanking fire on the rebels to the 
left. The Chicago Board of Trade battery had gallantly engaged 
the works on the road, and when the dismounted men entered the 
works followed them in on the Summerville road. 

General Wilson now came inside the works and directed Colonel 
Minty, who had assumed command of the division, General 
Long being severely wounded, to advance on the town. General 
Upton hearing the firing on Long's front, attacked at once, and 
met with but slight resistance. He did not penetrate the swamp, 
for w^ant of time, but moved in on the corduroy road. This left 
the Burnsville road open, and enabled man}' of the enemy to 
escape. 

While Long's dismounted men inside the works were preparing 
to advance. Lieutenant O'Connell, with a small mounted bat- 
talion of the Fourth United States cavalry, charged the enemy's 
second line of unfinished defenses, but was repulsed, many 
horses being lost and some men wounded. Lieutenant Webster 
was shot in the arm, and Lieutenant O'Connell had his horse shot 
under him and was supposed to be killed. 

The Seventeenth Indiana and Fourth Ohio cavalry then ad- 
vanced, with the Chicago Board of Trade battery firing, and the 
Fourth United States cavalry were dismounted and joined them. 
One gallant, sweeping rush, cheering and firing, in which Upton 
joined on the left, and the town was penetrated in all directions. 
As the works were approached, the bulky form of Lieutenant 
O'Connell was seen to rise from behind his dead horse, where he 
had been l3'ing to avoid the enemy's fire. He was bruised, but 
unwounded. 

By this time it was quite dark, and some frame houses were 
fired to enable the troops to see what they had to encounter, but 
in the darkness and confusion Generals Forrest, Adams, Roddey, 
Buford and Armstrong escaped, with a portion of their com- 
mands, swimming the creek outside the works east of the town, 
with the editor of the Selma Sentinel in their rear, leaving his 
office and the Extra containing the account of the crushing de- 
feat of Wilson's vandals in charge of the "devil," who was dispos- 
sessed by the cavalrymen, for they seemed to be able to get ahead 
of everything in that section. A battery attempted to follow 



€AMP AND FIELD. 683 

them out, but the guns got mired, and several of the horses were 
drowned. 

The loss in the 1,553 men of Long's division who charged was 
forty-four killed and two hundred and sixtv-eight wounded, while 
Upton lost three killed and ten wounded, a total oi lorty-seven 
killed and two hundred and seven t3'-eight wounded. Wilder's 
briofade lost twentv-nine killed and one hundred and sixty wound- 
ed, and Minty fifteen killed and eighty-five w^ounded. General 
Long and Colonels Miller, McCormick and Biggs were wounded, 
and Colonel Dobbs, Fourth Ohio, was killed. 

The fruits of the victory w^ere 2,700 prisoners (one hundred and 
fift3^ being oflficers), twenty-six field-guns and one 30-pounder 
Parrott. An immense quantity of stores fell into our hands — the 
arsenal, naval foundry, etc., filled with an immense amount of 
shot, shell, heavy cannon and all kinds of munitions of war. 
The arsenal and foundry was probabl}^ the most extensive of its 
kind in the Confederacy, and they had machinery for almost all 
purposes. They made there heavy guns on the Brooks and Par- 
rott systems, and cast them also on the Rodman and Dahlgren 
plans. They turned out as good a revolver as the Colt, but not 
as well finished, and made a very creditable cav^ilrv saber* 

Before leaving, Forrest had 25,000 bales of cotton fired, and 
the town was soon as light as day. A regiment, mounted, sitting 
on horseback, in front of the Gee House, ready to escape, was dis- 
covered by this light and captured, and its first reflection revealed 
the heels of Colonel White, of the Eighth Mississippi, protruding 
from under a house, where he had taken shelter. 

This burning cotton also set fire to many buildings, and large 
quantities of rations and supplies were destroyed. The scenes of 
the night beggar description. The men broke into the liquor 
stores and Confederate commissary, and were dispersed through 

*Here also were the extensive nitre works of the Confederacy in charge of John 
Haralson, an individual the soldiers were very desirous to see on account of the 
many jokes perpetrated at his expense. After the Tennessee mountain country 
containing the nitre caves was taken possession of by our army, tlie rebels w^ere 
put to great straits to obtain nitre for the manufacture of gunpowder — the 
amount imported being insufficient for their requirements. In this emergencA' 
Haralson proposed to manufacture it from chamber lye, which being diluted with 
water was run over large beds of horse manure and nitrate of ammonia in solu- 
tion resulted. The water and ammonia being driven off by evaporation in boiling 
the solution in huge kettles, an excellent article of nitre was obtained. In a build- 
ing near the arsenal there was also a torpedo mantifactory, whtre many of the 
boiler iron devils were stored awaiting shipment to the coast. The inventor of 
these demons of destruction was a Northern man, who wnth Haralson escaped 
from the city at the time of our attack or in the confusion of the night. 



684 CAMP AND FIELD. 

the streets intoxicated, singing and howling. They, however, 
manfully aided the provost-marshal in suppressing the flames, for 
the frightened citizens could not be induced to take charge of 
their engines. Order was restored and the flames subdued by 
morning, when Selma was found to be a sad-looking city.* 

Of the rebel forces in Selma at the time of the attack. Generals 
Jordan and Pryor, Forrest's biographers, say that Armstrong's 
brigade numbered 1,400 men, and Roddey's division 1,700 — total, 
3,100. But as we captured 2,700 prisoners, it seems to me there 
must have been more than that. After his defeat, Forrest fled to 
Marion, reaching there April 4, where he found Jackson'sdivision 
and General Chalmers with Starke's brigade. Where Lieutenant- 
General Dick Taylor went no one kne\v, as he escaped from Selma 
in the afternoon before the fighting commenced. 

Upton was sent out on April 3 to drive Chalmers to the west 
side of the Cahaba, and to communicate with General McCook, 
but not being able to cross the river, he joined McCook, and to- 
gether the}' returned to Selma on the fifth, with the train. Mc- 
Cook had been sent on the first to Croxton's assistance, and took 
Centerville, but found Jackson so strongly posted at Scottsboro, 
on the second, that he did not attack, but fell back to Centerville, 
burned the cotton-factories and the bridge over the Cahaba, and, 
marching via Randolph, joined Upton and the train, and came to 
Selma, as stated. 

General Wilson had placed Brevet Brigadier-General Winslow 
in command of Selma, and Lieutenant Haywood, engineer ofiicer, 
was ordered to press the construction of pontoons to bridge the 
Alabama river, the pontoons with the command beinginsufficient 
for the purjDose. While this was going on with details from the 
command, the work of destruction was commenced at the arsenal 
and navy-yard. Several hundred negroes of the town, and who 
had straggled in from the country, were pressed into service. 
Troughs or shutes were built, extending from the arsenal building 
down to the river, and into these the shot and shell and iron- 

*In more prosperous times it was a beautiful place. The warehouses were 
quaint and extensive, the stores neat and attractive and the streets well paved 
and lined with trees. At each street intersection stood a water fountain for the 
accommodation of man and beast, and the fine residences were embowered in 
semi-tropical foliage in spacious grounds. Nearly three centuries and a halt' pre- 
vious the site of Selma received its baptism of blood. Then an Indian town, 
that brave Spaniard, De Soto, with his little band had made it a haltinsf place 
while pushing across the new and hostile countrA^ to Pensacola, where ships and 
supplies from Havana awaited him. Here he was attacked by hordes of dusky 
savages, under the fierce Muscogee chief Tuscaloosa ( Black Warrior), and fought 
one ot the bloodiest battles of earlv American historv. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 685 

work were tossed, finding lodgment at the bottom of the deep 
stream. How man\' tons were thus disposed of I could not sa}-. 
The muskets and sabers were broken up, and the trunnions of the 
large guns chopped so as to prevent them from being mounted, 
and, in addition, they were chopped at the muzzle and spiked. 

The Confederate wounded were placed in a church east of the 
arsenal, in charge of a rebel surgeon named Wright, an old New 
Orleans physician. Our wounded were placed in the barracks near 
the levee, in charge of Surgeon J. B. Larkin. 

A party of the Fourth United States cavalry, on the Planters- 
ville road, under Lieutenant Royce, were attacked by Forrest's 
body-guard, and all killed — massacred. Forrest excused it on the 
ground that the men fought to the last, but this is highly im- 
probable. That Forrest was brutal and fierce in his disposition 
no one can deny, his habits as a slave-dealer and driver before the 
war, having probably made him callous to the finer moral feel- 
ings. 

On the sixth of April General Wilson met Forrest under a flag 
of truce, the latter professing to desire an exchange of prisoners. 
His overbearing manner, and his belief that he could recapture 
his men, made the interview very brief, although in it Wilson 
learned of Croxton's safety. He had encountered Jackson at 
Triune, on March 30, 1865, and finding himself outnumbered, fell 
back a few miles, and then turned north, crossed the Black War- 
rior river, moved down its right bank, and at midnight of April 
4, captured Tuscaloosa. On the sixth he was reported marching 
toward Eutaw, after having burned Tuscaloosa, where he had 
captured three pieces of artillery and sixty prisoners. He en- 
countered General Adams at Bridgeville, forty miles southwest of 
Tuscaloosa, and finding the country full of troops he turned 
north; then marching back to Jasper, he moved easter- 
ward, crossing the Black Warrior at Hanley Mills. Hear- 
ing from stragglers and fugitives of Roddey's command that 
Selma was in our possession, he pushed on through northern 
Alabama to Talladega, dispersed Brigadier-General Hill's force of 
conscripts and deserters, capturing one gun, and then continued 
his march via Carrollton and New Haven to Forsyth, where he 
arrived April 29, and reported to General Wilson, who was then 
at Macon, Ga. 

On the night of the sixth of April, the arsenal at Selma, Ala., 
filled with lumber, tools, machinery, etc., was fired. The spectacle 
was fearfully grand. The flames rolled up hundreds of feet, light- 
ing up the city and surrounding country for miles, while hidden 



686 CAMP AND FIELD. 

Stores of powder blew up with fearful detonations. Fragments of 
shell were sent whirling through the city, and the wounded, both 
ours and the Confederates, were in great fear and peril. Fortu- 
nately a heavy rain commenced falling soon after the fire got un- 
der way, putting out the flying sparks and saving the city, which 
would probably otherwise have been destroyed. Some locomo- 
tives on the track were piled over with wood, and the safety-valves 
fastened down, so that when the steam became too powerful they 
exploded with reports like those of heavy artillery. 

The Confederate papers which fell into our hands showed us 
that Mobile was being closely besieged by our troops under Gen- 
eral Canby, and was expected to fall at any time. They were 
frantically calling for reinforcements, and none to be had. The 
section of country around Mobile was flooded with water, our 
cavalry could be of no earthly use there or in siege operations, 
while Canby had one division of cavalry with him, enough to 
picket the country and protect his infantry from surprise. Wilson 
rightly concluded that if Mobile would soon fall, a march to the 
south would be lost time. Spanish Fort fell April 8, and Blakely on 
the ninth. Mobile surrendered on the thirteenth. The pontoon 
bridge was therefore pushed forward as rapidly as possible, as 
Wilson had determined to march eastward. But the rain poured 
incessantly, swelling the Alabama until it was a raging torrent, 
the bridge, of eight hundred and seventy feet in length, being re- 
peatedly broken; but after great exertions the whole command 
was crossed on the eighth and ninth of April, all being over by 
daylight of the tenth, and starting toward Montgomery, 
McCook, with La Grange's brigade in advance, skirmishing with 
some Alabama cavalry. It was a risky piece of business, cross- 
ing this long pontoon, which swayed up and down under the 
weight of the led horses and artillery, but not a man was lost in 
the crossing. McCook, pushing on, made a charge on the enemy 
at Old Town creek, and there lost Captain Golden, a promising 
3^oung officer, and inspector-general of his division, who was 
dro\vned while attempting to cross where a bridge had been 
destroyed. 

Long's division lay about three miles from Selma, and at some 
one's suggestion, it was decided to send back to Surgeon Larkin 
a quantity of Confederate money, which he could use for the 
wounded in his charge. For this purpose Frank Wheatly, 
quartermaster-sergeant of the Seventeenth Indiana, was selected. 
Frank was a little tuss, but gamy as a chinch, so, taking the 
bundle of Confederate money, he mounted his horse and galloped 



CAMP AND FIELD. G87 

back to the river. Finding the pontoon bridge taken up, he 
looked around and soon found a skiff. He had hitched his horse 
to a tree on the river bank, and he thought that it w^oukl not be 
prudent to take any arms over into Selma with him, as strag- 
ghng rebels would undoubted!}^ be in there, as all our troops had 
left. He therefore took off his belt and revolver and hung them 
on a limb near the horse. He then got in the skiff and rowed 
over to Selma, fastening the skiff at the water's edge, and pro- 
ceeding thence to the hospital, where he delivered over the Con- 
federate money to Surgeon Larkin. The surgeon told him that 
there was a company of rebel cavalry in town, who had taken a 
list of the wounded and attendants but a short time before, so 
Frank struck for the river without delay. Just as he neared the 
place where his boat was secured, what was his mortification to 
see the rebel cavalry coming out of a side street. He was halted 
and taken prisoner. The captain asked him what he was doing 
there. He said that he had brought over medicines and things 
for the sick men in charge of Dr. Larkin. The captain asked him 
how far the command was back when he left, and Frank said, 
"About a couple of miles from the river." The captain had been 
looking with wistful eyes at Frank's horse on the opposite bank, 
and made incpiiry regarding it. Frank told him that it was one 
of the finest horses in the division, and the captain's soul yearned 
for it, but how to get it was the question. At last an idea struck 
him. "Now," said he to Frank, "you have an idea of what being 
in prison is, and I don't care about taking a boy like you, so I'll 
make this proposition. Fll send a man over with you in the 
boat, and you bring the horse down to him. He can fasten it to 
the boat and swim him over. If you'll promise to do that I'll let 
you off." Frank promised readily, and the captain sent one of 
his men, unarmed, to the boat with Frank. They got in and 
rowed across, when the Johnny told him to hurry, as some other 
Yanks might come down and take him in. Frank said all right. 
He went up and put on his belt with the revolver in the holster, 
mounted his horse and rode down to the boat. The captain and 
company were all looking at him from across the river. He drew 
his revolver, and, pointing it at the rebel, said : "You go back 
and tell that captain that he had me prisoner. Now I've got vou 
prisoner. So I'll let you off on an exchange, and fair exchange is 
no robbery." The rebel pulled away in the boat, and Frank rode 
up on the bankand waved his hat, which elicited anumber of shots 
from the Johnnies, none of which touched him, however. I'll bet 
that rebel captain was mad at the way he was fooled by a boy. 



688 CAMP AND FIELD. 

On the tenth, Long's division followed McCook, in the afternoon, 
plowing through rain and mud, camping near Benton, and the next 
day's march, over terrible roads, brought us to the pretty town of 
Low^nsboro, a gem in this alluvial expanse. The country is very 
rich along the Alabama, and was the former country of those 
fierce warriors who fought De Soto, and the subsequent home of 
the Creek Indians, whose cornfields and towns were scattered 
all along it. Long's division toiled through the mud, and after 
building a bridge over Big Swamp creek camped on Colonel White's 
plantation on the night of the eleventh, and although numbering 
five thousand men hardly made a gap in his supplies of forage . Here 
the rebel prisoners were paroled, all but one hundred and fifty 
officers. Many had escaped on account of the carelessness of the 
guards, and two thousand seven hundred prisoners retarded the 
movements of the column, besides which their number was con- 
stantly being increased by scouting parties picking them up in all 
directions. 

The whole cavalry corps w^as now mounted, as horses had 
been captured for all the dismounted men, and there was a sur- 
plus on hand. The rebel officers who were taken along as prison- 
ers w^^re all mounted, and rode along side b}^ side with the men of 
the regiment which had them in charge. Some of them were 
jolly and took their condition stoically, while others were inclined 
to be cross and morose. They had a supply of cooking utensils, 
and received the same rations as our men, who also supplied them 
liberally with the products of the country which they had 
foraged. One of these prisoners was Colonel Pinson, who com- 
manded the First Mississippi cavalry', and who has since been 
president of the Memphis board of trade. He told me that he had 
been a colonel since 1861, and upon my expressing surprise, as I 
heard his comrades speak of his gallantry and had seen some of 
it myself, he said that Mr. Davis would never appoint him a 
brigadier-general. The reason was that he had opposed Davis 
politically, and worked against him when he was before the legisla- 
ture for election to the United States senate. Davis would never 
forgive him for it, and although recommended for promotion by 
Forrest, Armstrong and others, could never obtain it. Isuggested 
that under these circumstances I would resign . He smiled and said : 

"That is perhaps what Mr. Davis would like for me to do, for 
I have no doubt but that he would have me conscripted and a gun 
in my hand in twenty-four hours after I had left the service, so I 
thought that I had better remain as I was, in the First Missis- 
sippi." 



CAMP AND FIELD. 689 

And now the contrabands commenced to follow us, first by tens 
and then by hundreds— old men and young men, women, girls 
and children. They marched parallel with the column on either 
flank and to the rear. But the latter soon became an undesirable 
position. Detached bodies of rebel cavalry following up our 
force charged on them occasionally, shootingthem down without 
mercy. The women would carry enormous bundles of bedcloth- 
ing and domestic articles on their heads, the older children carried 
the smaller, and the able-bodied men fell in and marched like 
soldiers, each with his bundle of clothing and stores. 

General Wilson and other officers dissuaded the women and 
children from following the command, and finally forbade it 
altogether ; but the men could not be turned back, and they were 
therefore organized into regiments, and kept pace with the 
troopers, sometimes thirty-five miles a day, rejoicing in their new- 
found freedom, and ready to do any work — gathering forage, 
helping the teams, building roads, etc. They toiled incessantly, 
and their services were very valuable, as the bridges on all the 
small streams were destroyed, the banks were steep and muddy, 
and temporary bridges had to be built to get the artillery along. 

The people of the large plantations on the road did not seem to 
be greatly afraid of the Yankees. Often all the ladies of a house- 
hold would be down at the fence by the roadside looking at the 
procession pass, and when the Confederate prisoners came along 
would frequently wave their handkerchiefs to them. They did not 
like to see all the negroes taken along, however, and seemingly 
could not understand its object, for they Avould not acknowledge 
that they were free. 

At 7 a. m., April 12, 1865, LaGrange's brigade entered the city 
of Montgomery, Ala., the mayor of the city tendering the sur- 
render of the first rebel capital in a meek and submissive spirit. 
Ninety thousand bales of cotton are burning along the principal 
street, where they have been piled to the height of thirty feet be- 
tween the beautiful rows of trees. March 4, 1861, cotton was pro- 
claimed king by seven seceding slave-holding states, and Jefferson 
Davis was inaugurated ProvisionalPresident of the Southern Con- 
federacy, with all the pomp and circumstance befitting the occasion. 
Now cotton is being dethroned, for it is his subjects who have set 
fire to this immense mass — General Buford having applied the 
torch lest the Yankees might be benefited by the capture. All of 
this cotton belonged to the Confederate government; as such of 
it as was not obtained by tithing was purchased for Confederate 
bonds, under the orders of the rebel Congress, the planter being 



690 CAMP AND FIELD. 

compelled to sell to the government which used the cotton for the 
purchase of \^ar supplies. Notwithstanding the watchfulness of 
the tithing officers, however, every planter managed to bury a 
few bales of cotton from each crop — not being satisfied to sacrifice 
all for his principles, and the unearthing of this vast quantity of 
the staple after the war caused such a fall in the price and the 
ruin of the small speculators w^ho had estimated the amount on 
hand and cornered the market. 

Montgomery was strongly fortified, but surrendered without a 
shot. The terror-stricken citizens, having closed their stores and 
houses, remained indoors or in hiding, to await results of the 
Federal occupation. They were soon reassured, however, when 
they found that their beautiful city was not going to be harmed, 
and the streets quickly began to bear an appearance of life, soldiers 
and citizens mingling in friendl}' converse. Five steamboats, a 
number of locomotives and cars, several foundries and a quantity 
of other property used by the Confederacy was, however, de- 
stroyed, and the poor people and negroes were allowed to help 
themselves from the large stores of provisions and clothing ac- 
cumulated by the Confederate officers. The view from the top of 
the Capitol is magnificent over the pretty houses and across the 
rich plantations, with their embowered dwellings. Here the Con- 
federacy first established its seat of government, and here for two 
months its "Provisional Congress" assembled. The house occu- 
pied by Jefferson Davis — the then Provisional President — was 
eagerly gazed at by the soldiers— who then little expected to 
look upon its occupant before they got through their lalDors. 

The men disturbed but little in Montgomery, as plundering was 
strictly prohibited, yet some of them would find the ardent. As 
our division marched through town on the thirteenth, some of the 
men were discovered to be pretty full of intoxicant. I was sent 
with a guard to see where they obtained it. Passing down a 
back street, I came across a crowd of men gathered around two 
barrels of whisky. The heads were knocked out and they were 
fillincr their canteens or drinking out of tin cups, the ceremonies 
being presided over by two men named Foster and Musselman. I 
had the barrels emptied into the street, and I never heard such a 
heartrending groan as went up from that party on seeing so much 
o-ood liquor wasted. There was enough in the command, howev- 
er, to keep them all in good cheer until we reached camp, on the 
Columbus road eight miles from Montgomery. 

On April 14, 1865, the march of Wilson's cavalrv corps was re- 
sumed, General Upton in advance, moving through Mount Meigs 



CAMP AND FIELD. 691 

and across Line Creek toward Tuskegee, en route for Columbus, 
Ga. Colonel LaGrange, with three regiments, was detached and 
ordered to follow the Atlanta & West Point railroad through 
Opelika to West Point, at the crossing of the Chattahoochee river. 
This movement had two objectsin view : First, to secure the rail- 
road and other bridges; and, second, for the destruction of the 
vast amount of rolling stock and other property and the capture 
of the garrison. It was specially important to secure the bridge, 
as the Chattahoochee river was not fordable at Columbus, Ga., 
and if the command should fail in the attempt to take that place 
or save the bridge, a crossing would still be secured at West Point. 
In passing near Mount Meigs, in a fine, rich countrv, one of the 
rebel officers we held as prisoners, a jolly fellow, named Tom Bur- 
rows, a captain of Armstrong's staft', accosted me and asked if I 
had an^'thing to drink. I told him that I had not, nor did I know 
any one who had. We were approaching a magnificent mansion 
about fifty yards from the road, and he proposed to me to take 
him there, as he said he was sure thej-had liquor, and he could get 
some. I obtained permission, and we rode in through the gate, 
which was opened by one of the negroes standing at it, and we 
rode up to the house. A middle-aged, pleasant-looking lady was 
standing on the portico, with two handsome young ladies — ap- 
parently her daughters — bj^ her side. Captain Tom was in full 
Confederate uniform, gold lace on sleeves and bars on collar, 
and riding up to the portico he doffed his cap very gracefully, 
and then went on to state that he was one of a party of Confeder- 
ate officers who were prisoners, and being taken along bj' the 
Yankees; that I was a Yankee officer who was his guard, and that 
as they felt very low-spirited at being taken off to prison, his com- 
rades had requested him to come and ask for something to cheer 
them up. The middle-aged lady listened attentively until Tom 
got through, when she smiled and said: "You are a very good 
talker, sir, and Yankee tricks are proverbial, but you can plav no 
Yankee trick on me, sir, as I know^ that you are as much of a 
Yankee as the gentleman with you." Tom protested and argued, 
but all to no use, he couldn't convince her that he was a rebel, so 
he got angry and we returned to the road and rejoined the regi- 
ment with the prisoners, where Tom was delighted to find that an 
old Confederate commissary. Major McMinn, had just been pre- 
sented w4th a canteenful by Captain Pres. O'Bannon. Tom 
kept close to the major that afternoon, and did not want to try 
his luck at any more plantation houses. 
At Tuskegee, Ala., where Long's division camped, three miles 



692 CAMP AND FIELD. 

from town, on Aprill5,oneof the Confederate prisoners, a Captain 
Henry Dale, of the Engineers, desired to go to the town to see 
some friends. The necessary permission being obtained, I took 
him back, although the night was dark, and I feared rebel scouts 
following us up. Recalled at the house of Judge Martin, after- 
ward Sixth Auditor of the Treasury under President Grant. While 
he conversed with his sweetheart I talked to the Judge, whom 
Ifound.to be a strong Union man and a very pleasant gentle- 
man. The captain did not like to retire, even at eleven o'clock, 
and I felt sorry for him ; he felt so dejected to leave his ladylove 
to become another kind of a prisoner. 

On the afternoon of April 16, 1865, Wilson's advance was in 
front of Columbus, Ga. The city lies on the east bank of the Chat- 
tahoochee, which is spanned by a bridge. The defenses on the 
west bank consisted of breastworks, with occasional artillery 
earthworks, a very strong redan being constructed at the west 
end of the bridge. Abatis covered the whole front of these works, 
with the exception] of the road. After this line had been recon- 
noitered, Upton placed his troops in position, and at 8 p. m., with 
300 men of the Third Iowa, under Colonel J. W. Noble, now Sec- 
retary of the Interior, with the Fourth Iowa and Tenth Missouri 
in support, dismounted, attacked and carried the works at the 
road under a heavy fire of artillery and musketry, responded to 
in gallant style by the Spencer carbines of our men, who rushed 
through the abatis, climbed the parapet and penetrated the 
works. Then Captain Gleason with two mounted companies of 
the Tenth Missouri dashed down the open roadway, passed 
alongside the strong bridgehead in the darkness and took posses- 
sion of the bridge. General Buford was coming over, and endeav- 
ored to stop the rebel fugitives, but a few shots sent him scamper- 
ino- along with them, and the bridge was saved and secured. Then 
Upton made a general charge and took prisoners all those in the 
works, as they were unable to retreat over the bridge held by 
Captain Gleason's men. Twelve hundred prisoners were taken 
and fifty-two field-pieces in position were captured, with a loss to 
us of but twenty men killed and wounded. The bridge, a covered 
one, had been driven full of nails, on which bunches of cotton were 
huno-, ready to fire it at a moment's notice if they only had the 
chance. After the city was taken, the ram Stonewall Jackson, 
nearly ready for sea, and carr\nng six 7-inch rifles, was destroyed, 
as were also the navy-yard, arsenal, foundry, armory, sword and 
pistol factory, paper mills, accouterment shops, cotton mills, the 
bridges on the river, fifteen locomotives, 200 cars, 100,000 bales 



CAMP AND FmL,IS>, 693 

of cotton, and an immense quantity of artillery ammunition. 
It was reported to us at Montgomery on the twelfth that Rich- 
mond had fallen, and had the truth of it been verified, so that we 
could feel assured of the collapse of the Confederacy, millions of 
dollars' worth of property could have been saved to the United 
States. 

General Howell Cobb, former secretary of the United 
States treasury, who commanded the defense, tried to cross 
the bridge during the fighting, but he fared worse than Abe 
Buford, for his party was fired on and his adjutant-general and 
some of his orderlies were killed by Captain Gleason's squadron. 
Wilson's whole command entered the town the next mornincr, the 
seventeenth, and camped in the vicinity. There was very little'iDlun- 
dering by the men, but the factories were gutted, the factory girls 
and poor citizens and negroescarryingoif the bundles of Confeder- 
ate uniforms and cotton goods. It was an exciting scene to see 
these people despoiling the Confederacy, running in various direc- 
tions with their plunder, while the huge buildings were burning 
and crackling, and the troops loafing around and enjoving the 
picture of destruction. The splendid waterpower of the"'Chatta- 
hoochee river at Columbus, made it a desirable point for manu- 
factures, and the Confederacy had taken advantage of that, as 
well as its apparent security by being so far in the interior. 

Many of the people on Our route hearing of the coming of the 
Yankees, and dreading them from the stories published in the 
Southern papers, packed their valuables in wagons or carnages 
and fled away from the main road. They would get together'^in 
trains, and camp in isolated and out-of-the-way places. Thev 
were mostly women and children, in charge of old men, generally 
planters, who were fearful that their bitterness toward the North 
had compromised them, and that their action in urging Secession 
and sustaining the Confederacy woull be heard of and bring them 
into trouble. These parties frequently fell a prey to the scouts 
and stragglers, who occasionally despoiled them ; while if they had 
remained at home they would nothave been disturbed. With one 
of these parties overtaken near Society Hill was Major Cox, who 
had commanded the remnant of the"^ Tenth Missi.ssippi, which 
escaped from Selma. His men had dispersed, and his horse giving 
out he joined this party of reftigees. The men of the Seventh Penn- 
sylvania cavalry, who took him prisoner, found under his vest the 
flag of his regiment, which he had torn from the staff to prevent its 
capture. They also took from him hisgoldwatch,but at Columbus 
he made such an appeal for its return, saying that it was a gift 



694 CAMF A^NIJ FIELI>„ 

from his mother, then dead, that General Wilson ordered its return 
to him, and Colonel Andruss obtained it from the man who had 
it, giving him five dollars as sop to Cerberus. Major Cox seemed 
to be a very nice young man, and was liked by the guards who 
had him in charge. He owned a large plantation near Aberdeen, 
Alississippi, and had been in service since his seventeenth year, be- 
ing then twenty. 

In the meantime, Colonel LaGrange had assaulted Fort Tyler, 
at West Point, on the sixteenth of April, 1865. Beck's Indiana 
battery opened on the w^ork, and portions of the First Wisconsin, 
Second Indiana, and Seventh Kentucky cavalry were dismounted 
and assaulted it on three sides. The ditch being too wide and 
deep to cross, these commands kept the enemy down behind his 
breastworks, while detachments gathered materials for crude 
bridges, which being laid, the charge was sounded, and the detach- 
ments crossed and carried the works after a stubborn resistance. 
General Tyler and 265 men were captured, and eighteen officers 
and men killed and twenty-eight wounded. We lost seven killed 
and twenty-nine w^ounded. Three guns and about 500 stands of 
small-arms were taken. At the same time, the Fourth Indiana 
cavalry dashing through the town, scattered a superior force 
gathered to resist them, and secured the bridges over the Chatta- 
hoochee. Nineteen locomotives and 24-0 cars loaded with quarter- 
master, commissary and ordnance supplies, were destroyed, as 
w^ell as the Confederate stores in the town. LaGrange then 
moved towards Macon, through LaGrange, Griffin and Forsyth, 
destrojang the railroad at those points. 

On the seventeenth Wilson moved forward from Columbus, giv- 
ing Long's division, under command of Minty, the advance. The 
command, in motion, averaged over thirtymilesperday. Captain 
Hudson was sent forward to secure the double bridges over the 
Flint river, forty-six miles from Columbus, the command follow- 
ing closely. He reached there at 7 a. m. the next day, going via. 
Bellevue and Pleasant Hill and by a dash drove the enemy from 
the bridges, forcing him to abandon three field-pieces and thirteen 
wagon-loads of machinery in the road, while fort\' prisoners were 
also picked up. 

On the nineteenth the command marched to Thomaston via 
Potato Creek, where a large cotton factory w^as destroyed. Most 
of the troops camped beyond the town, but General Wilson had 
his tents pitched on the main street not far from the terminus of 
the branch railroad which comes from the Central Railroad of 
Georgia at Barnesville, then as now. X huge block was placed at 



CAMP AND FIELD. 695 

the end of the track to prevent cars running off. Now some scouts 
had got on to this branch road some miles from Thomaston and 
captured an engine and two flat cars. The}^ got some negroes 
from the adjoining plantations and piled the flat-cars high with 
fence-rails, which they set on fire. They also filled the fire-box of 
the engine jam full, with rails sticking out, and had the tender 
filled up with rails, which they also ignited. They did not know 
that their command would reach Thomaston that night, and they 
thought that they would give any rebels in town a pyrotechnic 
display. They therefore pulled the valve wide open and let the 
engine go. The flames, fanned by the speed of the engine, streamed 
aloft and made a veritable meteor of it. General Wilson had just 
got through supper, and was talking with some of his staff when 
he observed the approach of this monster of fire. They could not 
tell what it was, and great excitement prevailed for a few min- 
utes, when they led off their horses out of harm's way. The en- 
gine came tearing in, dashed against the stopping-block, jumped 
the track and turned on its side, the flat cars jumped on one 
another and scattered the fire all around. When it was discovered 
what the object was, some old railroad man in the party ran for- 
ward and at imminent risk of being scorched, cleared the valve 
and let off the steam so as to preclude any accident. General 
Wilson thought that it was a rebel performance, but when next 
morning he found that it was a trick of the scouts, he felt very 
angry, but finally laughed it off. 

On the morning of the twentieth, the Seventeenth Indiana, under 
Lieutenant-Colonel Frank White, which had marched 104 miles 
since 6 p.m. of the seventeenth, were advanced guards of Long's divi- 
sion, and soon encountered the enemy. He had thrown up rail 
works all along the road, and as these had to be carried by charg- 
ing, the rebel cavalrymen were kept flying toward Macon. The 
object was to try to save the bridges ; a dash carried that over 
the Echeconnee, but at Tobesofkee the bridge was on fire, and 
while Adjutant Doyle was sent across the ford with two compan- 
ies to drive the rebels back, the rest of the regiment dismounted, 
and by wetting their blankets and carrying water saved the 
bridge. Several prisoners and horses were taken, and the rebel 
cavalry threw away over one hundred guns in their flight. Two 
miles beyond the bridge, and within about thirteen miles of Macon, 
the advance was met by General Cherokee Robinson with a flag 
of truce, and accompanied by three other oflicers and an escort. 
He had a written communication from General Howell Cobb, in- 
closing a dispatch from Beauregard, stating that a truce was ex- 



' '. 6 CAMP AND FIELD. 

isting between Generals Sherman and J. E. Johnston, which was 
appHcable to all forces under them. General Cobb therefore de- 
sired General Wilson to stay the march of his troops and meet 
him so as to make arrangements for a more perfect enforcement 
of the armistice. Colonel White halted and sent the communica- 
tion to Colonel Minty, who commanded the division. That offi- 
cer read it and sent it*to General Wilson, but directed Colonel 
White to resume his advance. General Robinson was notified that 
he must clear the road in five minutes, as it was necessary to push 
forw^ard to save Rocky Creek bridge. The flag-of-truce party 
moved along leisurel3% and finding they w^ere tr\nng to delay him, 
Colonel White directed Adjutant Doyle, in charge of the advance- 
guard, to clear the road. He charged, and a running fight ensued 
with Blount's battalion with pistol and carbine, to Rocky Creek 
bridge, w^here some dismounted men were trying to fire it, but 
were driven off. The advance pursued the flying rebels, closely 
supported by the regiment, entered the palisades and through 
the rebel w^orks, and thus gained possession of the outer defenses. 
Colonel Cummins, commanding the rebel brigade on the road, 
surrendered his command, but could not make out w'hat became 
of General Robinson and his flag-of-truce party, until informed 
that they had taken to the woods several miles back. 

As the command closed up. Colonel White advanced into Macon. 
Several shots were fired on the leading troopers, and Corporal M. 
Whiteman was killed by an actor named Harry Crisp, as the 
command moved up Cotton avenue. 

The town being taken, Howell Cobb protested against the vio- 
lation of the armistice, but General Wilson held the ground until 
that night he obtained communication by cipher with General 
Sherman. Generals Howell Cobb, Gustavus W. Smith, Mackall 
and F. R. Robinson, with about 1,500 prisoners, were taken in 
the citv, and an immense quantity of stores. General Sherman's 
dispatch, received on the twent^'-first, directed General Wilson to 
cease hostile operations until directed to renew them, but he 
held on to all he had just the same. On the twenty-seventh, w'ord 
came that the Sherman-Johnston arrangement was to be disre- 
garded and hostilities resumed ; but immediately after came the 
nev.'S of Johnston's surrender, and the information that Lee had 
previously surrendered at Appomattox. 

The countrv was full of rebel stragglers, and small commands 
w^ere constantly coming in and being paroled. Sometimes a regi- 
ment or conipan3% and on one or two occasions small brigades, 
came in. " Manv of these belonged to Lee's army, and had escaped 



CAMP AND FIELD. 697 

the surrender. Some were going to their homes in Alabama, Lou- 
isiana, Arkansas or Mississippi. Others were intent upon stand- 
ing by the Confederacy, and were pushing toward the Trans- 
Mississippi Department to make a last stand when intercepted. 
Upon being paroled these men were formed into detachments 
who were going to the same section, and a team and wagon, 
loaded with rations, was supplied them to carry them to their 
destination. 

After the surrender of Johnston, a command was immediately- 
sent to Fort Valley en route to liberate the prisoners at Anderson- 
ville,but heanng of its approach, the Georgia militia regiment and 
Florida batter^' having them in charge, marched out with them 
on the Brunswick road, and at the end of the first day's march 
abandoned them. The Georgia regiment returned home, man}- of 
them to Macon, while the Florida battery started for Tallahassee 
via Albany and Thomaston. The escaped prisoners mostly re- 
turned to Macon, where they could with difficulty be restrained 
at times from punishing members of the Georgia militia regiment 
whom they recognized as having been cruel to them in their terri- 
ble imprisonment. 

The last act of importance of this great raid was the capture of 
Jefferson Davis by Lieutenant-Colonel D. B. Pritchard, Fourth 
Michigan cavalry, aided by Colonel Harnden of the First Wis- 
consin cavalry.* Jeff, with his family and staff, were brought to 

*The President of the collapsed Confederacy was no doubt endeavoring to 
reach Mexico, and had been escorted by Duke's command of Virginia cavalry, 
v^rho finally abandoned him and surrendered, leaving him with an escort of a few 
men. He was accompanied also by his family, John H. Reagan of Texas, his 
postmaster-general and ■\cting Secretary of the Treasurv, and Colonel W. C. P. 
Breckenridge of Kentucky, his private secretary. From the time the messenger 
brought to his pew in Saint Paul's church, Richmond, the Sunday morning tid- 
ings of the final disaster to Lee's army and the necessi+y of immediate flight, he 
had obtained no rest, fleeing and hiding to escape the Union forces. Now we all 
firmly believed that the head of the defunct Confederacy was endeavoring to escape 
in disguise at the time of his capture, and that he was using articles of woman's 
apparel for the purpose there is no doubt. When he found his camp surrounded 
he was exceedingly anxious to elude capture, having a fear that he would, pei'- 
haps, receive summary punishment, having, no doubt, heard of the large reward 
offered for him by the government ; and a<jain, being in the vicinity of Anderson- 
ville, with its 14,000 unmarked graves, for he felt'and knew that he was held 
greatly responsible for the horrors of those southern prison pens. But in his at- 
tempt to elude arrest he did not don woman's apparel, did not put on the hoop- 
skirt, dress, plaid shawl and poke bonnet, in which he was pictured in the illus- 
trated papers. Yet Colonel Pritchard and the officers and men present state that 
-when the camp in which Davis' party was secreted had been surrounded, a party 
approached the tents and soon noticed two figures stealing aw^ay in the dark. 
One was without doubt a woman, the other apparently a woman. When ap- 
proached, the apparent female threw off the wraps and stood forth. This was 
Mr. Davis, who, w^hen he found concealment impossible, discarded the garments, 



698 CAMP AND FIELDi 

Macon and located in the Lanier House, the principal hotel, and 
there was great curiosity among the men to see him. He appeared 
occasionally on the veranda, apparently to gratify the crowds of 
soldiers in front of the hotel, and would receive parties of officers 
who called on him by permission. He had overcome his fears 
and was now courting favor. Although rewards had been 
offered for Davis, Breckenridge and others for complicity in the 
assassination of President Lincoln, the particulars of which we had 
received, neither officers nor men of Wilson's command seemed to 
lay the murder at the door of the fallen Confederate chieftam. No 
insults were offered to him or bitterness of feeling expressed, and 
he was well treated until he was sent North. 

From Major E. B. Beaumont, A. A. G. ot the expedition, I have 
the following recapitulation of trophies : 

Colors taken 23 

GUNS IX POSITION. 

Ebenezer Church 3 

Selma 29 

Montgomery 5 

Columbus 52 

West Point 3 

Tuscaloosa 3 

Talladega 1 

Total : 96 

GUNS IN ARSENAL. 

At Selma 70 

At Columbus 10 

At Macon 60 

Taken on the road 5 

Total l-i-5 

Or 241 guns in all, and in addition to these a battery of two- 
pound breech-loading rifle guns was dug up from the graveyard 

which were a long waterproof cloak or " Raglan," as it used to be called, which 
he had around him, and a shawl which had been tied over his head. Tliese articles 
were secured bv Colonel Pritchard and sent to the Adjutant-General ot" the army 
and are still oii deposit in the War Department at Washington, although numer- 
ous efforts have been made by different persons to induce the government to re- 
txirn them to Davis or his family, but without success. In searching the trunks of 
the party, a beautiful flag that had been taken by the Confederate army from 
a Pennsvlvania regiment was found in Mrs. Davis' trunk and wns also sent to 
Adjutant-General Towtisend, who held it for many years in the War Department, 
resisting- all efforts of the Pennsvlvanians to recover their banner, until a bill was 
passed %y congress directing its return. In one of Jefferson D's trunks was 
found a large quantity of fine cigars, which had been presented to him by the 
Emperor Ma.ximilian,"who professed great friendship for him, as he desired the 
success of the Confederacv to secure his throne in Mexico. These fumars were 
taken and sent to the War Department with the other things, and were kept 
there a long time, but not being considered proper military booty, were sent back 
to Mr. DaNHS by a gentleman who brought a request for their return. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 699 

in Macon, where they had been secreted. These guns were built 
for Captain Travis, the celebrated pistol shot, and they were in- 
tended to be used for shooting the pilots on the Mississippi steam- 
ers. Captain Travis, who was in Macon, claimed that he could 
explode one of his shells on a pilot-house at a distance of two 
miles. The guns were beautifully sighted and finished,' and one 
of them is now in the Ordnance Museum of the War I)e])artment. 
The number of small-arms captured exceeded 20,000. 

The following is the number of prisoners taken, exclusive of 
those who came in and surrendered after hostilities ceased : 

Ebenezer Church ^^^ 

Russelville ^^2 

Sdma -''00 

Montgomerv "^^ 

Columbus 1-29^ 

West Point ^ ^^0 

Macon 1-500 

Talladega ^^O 

Tuscaloosa ^^^ 

Total <^.-l-82 

A number of Confederate paymasters, with their funds, were 
captured here and there on the raid, and Wilson's command 
camped around Macon was well supplied withConfederatemoney. 
At first all the stores and saloons took this money at such rates 
as $50 for a drink, $600 for a felt hat, $800 for a pair of shoes, 
etc., but in a couple of weeks it took a fall, and you could get 
nothing for a bushel of it. 

The records of the Confederate War Department had been cap- 
tured near Milledgeville, and Aiajor C. L. Greeno, provost-mar- 
shal, had them in charge. They filled a number of large dry- 
goods boxes, and contained the official reports of battles and also 
the reports of all subordinate commanders, kept in very good 
order. General Wilson forwarded them to the War Department. 

The immense stores accumulated throughout the country, in 
village storehouses and at railroad depots, were suflicient to have 
supplied the rebel armies for years, and were subsequently turned 
over to the Freedmen's Bureau, which soon assumed charge. 

Macon is picturesquely perched on a hill around which a densely 
wooded country stretches away in all directions. The Ockmul- 
gee river winds between broken and romantic banks not far 
from the town, and near it— on the Lamar plantation— are many 
huge Indian mounds, and not far from them is the site of a vener- 
able fort, used during the wars wnth the Creeks. Its railway 
communications were good, and its commodious cotton ware- 



700 CAMP AND FIELD. 

houses stood in large walled enclosures where the plantation 
wagons and carts camped and unloaded. Vineville was a most 
delightful suburb, and Rose Hill cemetery was located in a most 
beautiful and romantic situation. The people were intenseh^ bit- 
ter in feeling, and young ladies promenading the main street 
w^ould step off the sidewalk, when near headquarters, to avoid 
passing under the United States flag which floated from the bal- 
ustrade. This was done more, perhaps, from mischief than any- 
thing else, but it attracted attention, and therefore a thirty-foot 
flag was made and, flanked by smaller flags, extended across the 
street to the Lanier House, and the damsels had therefore to come 
under the stars and stripes or forego their promenade. The ex- 
Confederate officers and soldiers mingled familiarly with the 
Union troops and the greatest good feeling prevailed. In Howell 
Cobb's old headquarters several barrels of C . S. commissary whisky 
were put on tap, from which all were supplied by the provost- 
marshal. Confederate officers were permitted to w^ear their uni- 
forms, with the insignia of rank removed, and the men were sup- 
plied with any necessary articles of clothing from the captured 
Confederate stores. 

In conclusion, I cannot help thinking of the subterfuges people 
resorted to in the South to save their propertv, not only from the 
Yankees but from the Confederate tithing officers. Cotton was 
buried on every plantation where it was raised, while meat and 
other articles were cached out in secure places. The poor people 
of Southern Tennessee, however, had a hard time to escape the 
soldiers of either army, and they used diplomacy to save their 
forage, always being on the side of the troops who held posses- 
sion. The girls would sing, and try to make friends with the offi- 
cers and men. They had several ditties, adaptable to circum- 
stances, the favorite one running in the following strain. If Con- 
federate troops were around them they sang : 

The Yan-kees said that the rebels wouldn't fight, 
We'el show 'em that when they come in sight. 

For we've got some little guns, 

An' we call 'em number ones. 

Twenty-pounder bombs. 

An' w^e'el shoot 'em as thej' come, 

For w^e'el raise a rebel band, 

An' make the Yankees vmderstand 

They must leave our land 

Or submit to Hood's men. 



CAMP AND FIELD. 701 

Now, if Federal troops were camped around them, they changed 
the words in this way, to suit circumstances: 

The reb-els said that the Yankees wouldn't fight, 
We'el show 'em that when they come in sight. 

For we've got some little guns, 

An' we call 'em number ones, 

Twenty-pounder bombs, 

An' we'el shoot 'em as they come. 

For we'el raise a Union band, 

An' make the rebels' understand 

They must leave our land 
Or submit to Abrev-hara. 



T^l^e iulfeana Disastep. 



THE AWFUL CALAMITY BY WHICH THIRTEEN HUN- 
DRED SOLDIERS LOST THEIR LIVES 



BY WILSON B. MURRAY, 21st WISCONSIN. 




?UST afterthewar had closed,when millions of loyal hearts 
were well-nigh bursting with joy that the Union was 
saved and brave sons and brothers and husbands were 
cominghome, occurred the most appalling disaster in the 
history of steam navigation. Near Memphis, on the Mississippi 
river, the steamer Sultana exploded her boilers and burned to the 
water's edge. The boat, through criminal negligence, was over- 
loaded, crowded from stem to stem, and from main to hurricane 
deck, with returning soldiers, nearly all of whom had just been 
released from long confinement in Southern prisons. There were 
on board the Sultana nearly twenty-two hundred persons, of whom 
some thirteen hundred were lost. This awful calamity came in 
the night, April 27, 1865. Within one short hour nearly as many 
men lost their lives as were killed on the Union side at Stone River. 
I was disabled by a bullet during the second day's fighting at 
Chickamauga. Unable to leave the field when my regiment was 
forced back, I fell into the hands of the Philistines. I was taken 
to a field hospital, where I was kindly and humanely treated. The 
Confederate surgeons dressed my wound, which healed so rapidly 
that in a few days I was able to travel. Then I was sent to the 
rebel prison at Millen, Georgia, where I remained during the 
winter. In the spring of 1864 I was removed to Andersonville. 
For five months I witnessed and shared all the horrors of that 
awful place. No language can describe them, nor shall I attempt 
it here. Late in September, with several hundred other weak, 
starving, wretched victims of rebel cruelty, I was taken to Ca- 



CAMP AND FIELD. 703 

haba prison, where I remained till the glad news came that Lee 
had surrendered and the war was over: Words can give but a 
faint conception of our happiness as we marched out of the stock- 
ade, free once more. 

AtVicksburgwe went on board the Sultana, hound northw^ard. 
I do not know who was at fault, but somebody was responsible 
for crowding such a multitude of men upon that boat. Half the 
number would have been enough, and there was another boat 
there which could have been used. The Sultana was literally 
swarming with people in every part. We all felt that something 
was w^rong. Many spoke of the awful consequences that would 
be inevitable in case of accident. The life-saving means provided 
were not sufficient for a quarter of the number on board. Hun- 
dreds of the more thoughtful and prudent ones would rather have 
waited a day or two, if necessar}-, for another boat, but they 
w^ere ordered on the fated steamer and had no choice in the 
matter. No doubt in the minds of some, the eagerness to get home 
to "God's country" w-as so great that the\^ gave no thought to 
the danger. 

All went w-ell till we were near Memphis. It was night and 
most of the soldiers were wrapped in their blankets and stretched 
upon the decks and cabin floors. I was sleeping on the upper 
deck, near the smoke stacks. With me w^as "Jim Mason " of the 
Third Kentucky. He was also a Chickamauga prisoner, and we 
had starved and suffered together during eighteen months of 
confinement. We had gone through it better than most of the 
prisoners did. Neither of us weighed as much by thirty or forty 
pounds as w-hen captured, but all things considered we were in 
prett}^ fair shape. 

Without a moment's warning the boilers of the steamer ex- 
ploded W'ith a tremendous report. The boat was literally torn 
to pieces. Hundreds of men were blown into the water. To add 
to the horror, the w^reck immediately took fire. The fierce flames 
spread rapidly, and hundreds were forced to leap into the stream. 
The portion of the deck where Mason and I were sleeping w^as 
blowm bodily into the air twent\^ or thirty feet and fell into the 
river, I was fortunate in not being greatly injured by the explosion. 
Coming down in the water I was able to seize a fragment of the 
w^reckage and keep m3^self afloat. I never saw Mason again. Prob- 
ably he was stunned b}^ the sudden upheaval and sank immedi- 
ately. Poor Jim ! He was a brave, patient, faithful soldier. He 



704 CAMP AND FIELD. 

as truly gave his life for his country as though he had died on 
the battle-field. Even yet scarcely a day passes that I do not 
think of my companion and friend who met so sad a fate. 

I can never forget that awful scene. The river was a mass of 
men struggling for life. The air was filled with shouts and 
screams of agony and despair. The burning wreck, as it floated 
down, lighted up the stream for a long distance. From either 
shore men put out in small boats to aid in rescuing the victims. 
Every plank or piece of the wreck ^vas covered with men clinging 
to it in desperation. The current w^as swift and they were car- 
ried rapidly down the stream into the darkness. Hundreds of 
those who were thrown or leaped into the water could find no 
means of escape and were drowned at once. Many others floated 
for hours down the river, and one by one, as their strength became 
exhausted, gave up the struggle and sank beneath the remorseless 
waters. It will be borne in mind that most of these men were 
greatlv enfeebled by their prison life and were in no condition to 
endure hardship and fatigue. Many of them were little better 
than skeletons. It is no wonder that their nerveless hands could 
not hold their grasp. 

The piece of the wreck that saved my life was a ragged fragment 
of the roof, perhaps ten feet square. Several men climbed upon 
it, while in the water around the edges were probably thirty hold- 
ing on by their hands. Scores sank around us while trying to seize 
it. We could only float down with the current, having no means of 
takinsf our craft to the shore. Within an hour our number w^as 
decreased nearly or quite a third. We did all in our power to 
assist the weak ones, knowing that sooner or later succor would 
come to us, but one after another became unconscious, let go his 
hold and went down to death. 

We were carried down the river seven or eight miles before we 
were rescued, and were in the water more than four hours. 
Strength was almost gone and it seemed that all of us must per- 
ish. At a bend of the stream the current swept us near the 
Arkansas shore. Our feeble shouts were heard by a man, who 
came to us with a boat. He knew nothing of the disaster until 
we told him of it. He was a returned rebel soldier, but he treated 
us with the utmost kindness. His boat would not hold all 
of us. A few who were most nearly exhausted were put into 
it. Then he fastened a rope to the piece of wreck and by sturdy 
rowing gradually pulled it to the shore. Barelyhalf of those who 
had started on the perilous voyage remained. As may well be 
imagined, we were devoutly thankful when we once more set foot 
on land. 



l::;::;;;;:;r!;:l 



